


Take A Picture

by Jackie_Gaytona



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Falling In Love, Fluff, Jealous!Nandor, M/M, Major character death in the epilogue, guillermo’s dildo again, himbo!Nandor, photographer, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: Guillermo goes on holiday (much to Nandor’s dismay) and brings back a photographer friend (much to Nandor’s dismay). Photographer friend has a fantastic idea to bring Guillermo and Nandor together: couple’s shoots with increasingly sexual suggestiveness!But will Nandor ever stop being jealous? Will his swiss-cheese-brain ever be cured?
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 43
Kudos: 112





	1. Prologue: The Photo

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Nandermo discord (especially Chelsfic https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelsfic for the beta’ing!) for the ongoing help in coming up with ridiculous scenarios for this fic. Pure crack featuring a young Tom Selleck as a sexy photographer that Guillermo brings home after holidaying in LA. It’s kind of endearing just how dumb Nandor is in this.
> 
> As an aside, I write about Guillermo’s dildos way too much.  
> Enjoy! And as usual, thank you so so much for the comments and kudos on my fics!!! <33

Two weeks! It had been two weeks (well…twelve days and twenty hours) since Guillermo had left for his holiday. And Nandor was not pleased. Sure, he had agreed to it, because Guillermo was a vampire-slayer who had offered to keep working for Nandor when he could have just left, and Nandor was grateful for that of course; but the human was taking far too many liberties. It was grating on him. And he’d had no idea it would be this hard looking after himself! 

For one, he always made the bath water too cold – Guillermo would fill it at the perfect temperature every time, and leave him with an assortment of soaps and nice-smelling things while he washed. He would stand dutifully outside the bathroom with his master’s cape ready while Nandor dressed in his smallclothes. He would then help the vampire with his vest and pants and his thick, lush cape. But now Nandor had to do all that by himself – and his cape would get wet as he tried to clasp it! It was a nightmare. He’d resorted to moping about the house in a simple blouse and three-quarter-length pants, or a robe and pants, or sometimes just pants. And getting in and out of his coffin? He’d slept on the chaise more times than he could count -- which was risky, but he just couldn’t have been bothered lifting the casket’s heavy lid. He was  _ also _ having to help the others tidy up the house, which just wasn’t working. Nadja and Laszlo really needed to hurry up and get a less death-prone familiar for trying times like these.

But it wasn’t just the inconvenience of his familiar gone that had Nandor in such a state. It wasn’t even the fact that he actually, on some visceral level, missed him. No…it was the fact that his familiar was over in Lost Anglies having fun and seeing the sights and drinking the drinks without him. He was absolutely not jealous, of course. Even when Colin Robinson had shown him his Face Book page and the photos of him posing with some actor guy, Nandor wasn’t jealous. It was just very insolent of him to be showing off like that, when his poor master was stuck here in this musty old house with stupid old vampires.

Nandor stewed over this now as he sat on one of the lounges in the fancy room and sulked. He was wearing a basketball jersey, neckerchief, and shorts he’d never seen before tonight (but had found in one of his drawers). He was very quickly running out of clothes, even though Colin Robinson had already done their laundry a couple of times this week. Why did clothes get so dirty and bloody so quickly? It was such an inconvenience. Nandor hated being smelly.

“Tomorrow night!” Colin came barging into the room, as if reading Nandor’s gloomy thoughts. Nandor groaned inwardly at the sight of the balding man. Yes, Guillermo would be home tomorrow night. But Nandor wished it was tonight. He could hardly bear another day without Guillermo – to attend to his many needs, of course. Not because he felt miserable and lovesick.

Colin hadn’t looked up from his phone once. There was a little smirk playing around on the edges of his lips. Nandor knew he was just desperate to show him whatever was on the screen. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

“Oh, check this out,” Colin said eagerly. “Gizmo’s been putting up more photos, and this one’s a doozy.”

Nandor didn’t want to see any more photos. He just wanted to be left alone. But he decided to humour the energy vampire, because deep down he was just a little tiny bit curious. And even deeper down, just out of cognitive reach, an intuitive part of him wanted to see Guillermo, even if it were just in photo format. His little familiar could be rather photogenic, after all.

Colin sat on the opposite lounge and handed Nandor the phone, that smirk never once faltering. Nandor glowered at him under a heavy brow as he took the little device. He looked down at the screen and immediately dropped it, eyes widening as he grappled to catch the falling phone. His face felt weirdly hot all of a sudden, but once he had the phone in his clutches again, he found he couldn’t look away. He heard the faintest chuckle escape Colin’s closed lips, and he felt a sudden urge to peg the phone at the other vampire’s head. He knew that this photo wasn’t meant for his eyes, yet  _ still _ he couldn’t tear them away. 

Guillermo was laying back amongst tussled blankets and pillows, one arm behind his head, lips slightly parted as he looked at the camera under hooded eyelids. Eyes behind black-framed rectangular glasses that Nandor had never seen before. His chin and jaw hidden beneath a week’s worth of dark stubble. His hair curled up at different angles around his forehead and settled against his scalp in flicking waves at the back, as though he’d not been awake long enough to comb it. A crumpled white sheet was placed strategically between his legs, and he wore black socks that almost reached his knees; but other than that, it was clear he was completely naked underneath.

“Nandor?” Colin prompted, feigning concern. It was clear he was making a feast of this. Nandor felt his energy draining – and he hadn’t had much to begin with.

“He put this…on the Face Book?” he said numbly.

“Eh, not exactly,” Colin said, snatching the phone out of Nandor’s lax grip. “He was tagged in it. I suppose he’ll hide it when he sees it. Want me to save it for you? In case he deletes it?” There was that little snigger in his voice again, though Nandor hardly noticed it.

“Tagged?” he said, still two steps back.

“Yeah, it’s a feature where—”

Nandor was suddenly hit with a revelation that propelled him to his feet. His mouth twisted into a scornful grimace. “Who the fuck took the photo?” he shouted.

Colin seemed completely unfazed by the outburst. “Friend of his, it seems,” he mumbled, looking down at the screen. “Boyfriend, maybe?”

“Boyfriend?” Nandor clenched his fists. His Guillermo? A  _ boyfriend _ ? 

“Dunno. I mean, it’s not impossible he met someone during his holiday. Guy’s a photographer, it seems.”

“Boyfriend or not,” Nandor stuck his finger in the air in a declaration. “Guy will never be welcome in my house!”

“His name isn’t G—”

“Friends are too distracting for my familiar!” Nandor shook his finger at the room. “Not to mention a boyfriend! No…he has taken his liberties too far this time.”

“You know, Nandor,” Colin said casually, leaning back in his chair, his eyes shining faint blue. He was loving this. “I think you might just be a little jealous of Gizmo’s new friend.”

Nandor shot him a look that could kill – and perhaps Nandor would have tried to tear his head off with his bare hands, if Laszlo and Nadja hadn’t walked into the room just then. Nadja was giggling seductively, the corners of her lips painted red. Laszlo had been whispering something to her, but stopped dead when he saw Colin. His face fell, but then his eyes moved to the screen in Colin’s hand and he squinted and leaned over the lounge.

“Is that…?”

“It’s nobody!” Nandor yelled, and gestured for Colin to turn the screen off, his fangs bared in annoyance. Of course, Colin disobeyed. In fact, he handed the phone to Laszlo.

“Well slap my arse and call me Judy!” Laszlo hooted, his eyes lighting up. “Nadja, look at Gizmo!” Nadja pushed against his shoulder and leaned in, her lips stretched back in a curious grin. When she saw the photo she let out a terrific cackle.

”Do you think he has anything on under that sheet?”

“No darling, you can see bare hips.” Laszlo was squinting rather attentively at the photo, and Nandor bristled.

“Stop staring!” he groused. “Guillermo is  _ my _ familiar!”

“He’s not really though, is he?” Nadja said distractedly. “Who is taking the photos?”

“Maybe a boyfriend,” Colin offered, then added with a shrug, “or girlfriend.”

“Ooooh!” Nadja cooed.

“Guillermo does  _ not _ like girls!” Nandor declared loudly.

”You seem stressed, chap,” Laszlo noted. He tore his eyes away from the screen to look at his housemate. There was a cheeky glint in his eye. “Wonder if he’ll come back a little harlot.”

Nandor hissed, baring his fangs and hunching over in fury. His eyes blackened.

“Oh, calm your sweet little tits, Nandor,” Nadja said charmingly. She handed the phone back to Colin, whose eyes were now fully glowing. “I’m sure nothing has changed.”


	2. The Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to @Chelsfic for beta-ing! You da real MVP. And, of course, the rest of the Nandermo discord. Lord help us all.
> 
> Nandor is introduced to Tom, Guillermo’s new friend. Guillermo questions his own existence.

There was a knock at Nandor’s door.

“I am not in here!” he called.

“You coming to pick up Gizmo?” came a muffled but upbeat voice.

“No, Colin!” Nandor yelled in exasperation.

“I’m sure he would love to see you.”

“He can come see me when he gets home!”

Colin’s footsteps disappeared and Nandor let a perturbed sigh escape his nostrils. That photo...he had never seen that side of his familiar. He wasn’t even aware that Guillermo  _ had _ another side. His sheepish, frightened little human had turned into something else entirely after the theatre incident - Nandor was sure of it. He simultaneously admired this new Guillermo and loathed him. The photo kept creeping back into his head. That flimsy crumpled sheet taunted him. The squarish glasses...the stubble...would he look like that when he returned? Or had that all been a show for this  _ Guy _ man who had come barging into his life uninvited? 

This was silly. Guillermo was a grown man; if he wanted to romp about with some strange photographer in the Lost Anglies, then who was Nandor to stop him?

“I’m his master!” Nandor argued with his head. But even that wasn’t true anymore, was it? He snarled, baring his fangs halfheartedly at the ceiling. “Fucking Guy!” The tiny, reasonable part of his brain was telling him to let it go. And besides - Guillermo would be home tonight, under Nandor’s roof again, and photographer-man would still be stuck, miserable and pining, on the other side of the country.

That made Nandor’s head hurt a little less, at least.

He relaxed back on his chaise and closed his eyes.

  
  


“Nandor?” Guillermo whispered, gently nudging the vampire with his shoe. He’d found him hanging off the chaise; his shoulders slumped against the floor, his neck kinked, but his calves and heels still resting firmly on the cushioning like some lazy bat. His blouse had ridden up to his chin. Guillermo would occasionally find him like this when he didn’t put him to bed on time. Usually when he was upset...which wasn’t a great sign.

Nandor frowned and grumbled before sliding completely off the lounge. His eyes flickered open beneath a lowered brow.

“Guillermo?” he mumbled. The sleepy way in which he spoke made Guillermo smile. “What time is it?”

“Nine,” Guillermo replied softly. He was deliberating whether or not to offer his hand to Nandor when the vampire’s eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet. His face suddenly filled with contempt.

“I hope you enjoyed your little holiday!” he snarled. “Having fun with your new friends. Drinking all the fancy drinks. Dancing the fancy boogies while I had to stay here and learn how to tie my own shoelaces!” 

Guillermo flinched, taken aback. “I—you said I deserved a holiday,” he stuttered.

”I said you could go on a holiday!” Nandor shot back. “I never said you deserved one!” He pointed a finger at his familiar’s chest before pushing past him and heading for the door. He failed to notice the film of tears in his human’s eyes.

“Nandor, wait,” Guillermo said with a quick sniffle. He didn’t know what had gotten into the vampire. Wasn’t he happy to see him? Guillermo had been dying to see  _ him,  _ and tell him all about his time away. About his first holiday in fifteen years.

That desire died pretty quickly, though. Now he was filled with a burning fear. “Nandor!” he called again, louder this time. “I—uh...I should introduce you to…” He trailed off as Nandor turned slowly to face him. His eyes were burning with what looked like literal fire. He only made this face when he was very, very cranky. Guillermo expected a tantrum for the ages.

“Introduce me to who?” he said venomously.

Guillermo gave a nervous smile.  _ Oh boy _ . “His name is Tom.”

Nandor perked up. “Did you bring me home a cat? It had better be a cat, Guillermo.”

“What? No,” Guillermo huffed. “He’s, well, an old friend I guess. I found him a gig here in Staten Island so he came back with me.” He shut his mouth as Nandor burst out the door.

”What kind of gig?” he growled as Guillermo hurried close behind, extremely worried.

“He’s a photographer,” he said to the vampire’s back, his throat suddenly tight. He’d already introduced the man to the other vampires, before giving them a quiet word about what the consequences of eating him would be. They had reluctantly agreed to leave his neck alone. But Nandor? He was in a mood. And he tended to be reckless when he was in a mood. And he also wouldn’t take any of Guillermo’s threats seriously (not that Guillermo would even attempt a threat...he didn’t feel like spending the next month being reminded of “that time you threatened me!”).

He quickly ducked up beside Nandor as they entered the fancy room where his guest was seated next to Colin. The other vampires had little interest in humans that they couldn’t eat, so they’d long since left the room. Tom wasn’t concerned by Colin’s incessant banter. It was clear he was feigning interest out of politeness, but he didn’t seem all that drained, either.

Guillermo braced himself for a confrontation as Nandor met the stranger’s eyes. In fact, he placed himself discreetly between them in order to keep a close eye on Nandor’s mannerisms. Tom smiled cordially and stood, quickly closing the distance between them.

“You must be Nandor,” he said in a warm, deep voice. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He offered the vampire a handshake. Nandor glanced down at the man’s hand, then back at his face, his mouth twisted in a grimace. He stayed frozen to the spot, glowering. Tom’s smile faltered after a moment, and he dropped his hand and cleared his throat, looking away a little awkwardly. Guillermo wanted to die.

“So, uh, Tom is going to be staying with us for a week or so,” he said quietly. “He can take my bedroom and I’ll—“

“I don’t think so, Guillermo!” Nandor snapped, suddenly coming to life. “He can sleep in your old room.”

“Oh my g—no, Nandor—”

“It’s fine,” Tom said with a placating grin. “I’m happy to crash wherever. Thank you for taking me in on such short notice.”

“I didn’t take you in,” Nandor said firmly.

Guillermo glared daggers at the vampire. “Tom, you can sleep in my room,” he insisted, never once taking his eyes off Nandor. “I’ll sleep in my old room.” 

Nandor bristled. Was this some kind of  _ challenge _ ? Well two could play that game! Nandor would show this  _ Guy _ -Tom just who was Guillermo’s master. 

“No,” he said, straightening his back in intimidation. “You will sleep in my crypt with me, Guillermo. Do  _ not _ try arguing with me. I don’t appreciate your impudence.”

Guillermo gaped at him, but quickly gathered himself in front of his guest. Tom was staring at the taller man with something akin to bewilderment in his eyes. Nandor just glared.

“Well…” Guillermo gave a sigh that was tinged with exasperation. He tried to smile. “That’s settled, then. Tom? Let me show you to your room.”

Guillermo hurried away, desperate to escape the stuffy room. Colin had been quietly feeding on the tension this entire time. If Tom noticed the blue glow in the vampire’s eyes as he turned to nod his farewell, he made no reaction - for which Guillermo was grateful. The other vampires had been hard enough to explain as it was: “ _ My housemates are a little strange _ .” “ _ They’re very old-fashioned _ .” “ _ They like to roleplay. A lot _ .” “ _ If they sniff you, it’s just part of their roleplay _ .” 

No amount of warning could prepare anyone for the residents of this house, though. Not to mention the weird house itself. But Tom seemed to be taking it all in his stride; even if they’d only been back for half an hour. He wheeled his luggage behind him (Guillermo had offered to take it, but he had politely refused), as he took in the decor of the house. He was, thankfully, a creative thinker, so he seemed more awed than put-off. He’d continuously assured Guillermo during the flight that he was open-minded and that he’d also lived with some pretty strange people in his time. As they walked side-by-side through the foyer, and then up the staircase (Nandor’s heavy footsteps close behind, of course), Tom must have seen the lines of worry across Guillermo’s forehead because he flashed him one of his carefree smiles.

He was as handsome as ever; there was no denying it: tall and broad-shouldered with a bronze tan, strong jaw and piercing blue eyes that complemented the short dark waves of hair atop his head. He had a gorgeous smile, too, complete with dimples.

Guillermo had met him by complete accident while out at dinner with his cousin. Tom was the brother of an old highschool friend, and although Guillermo hadn’t seen him in years, he had recognised him immediately. They’d really hit it off, too. He was based in LA now and worked as a freelance photographer for magazines, bands, weddings. “Whatever I can get my hands on,” he’d said that night at the restaurant. His parents were located in Manhattan though, and after they’d hung out for a few days, Guillermo offered to help him find a gig in the area so he could surprise them with a visit. He’d even, on a whim, extended an invitation for Tom to stay with him after he’d mentioned his parents probably didn’t have the space for him. In return, Tom offered him some professional modelling shoots, which Guillermo found both amusing and intriguing.

The modelling was fun, after he’d gotten over his initial shyness. But he was starting to regret his invitation...especially after talking Tom’s ear off several times during the past week about how amazing Nandor was. How much his “boss” of twelve years meant to him. How he wished he could be more than just an “employee”.

What must Tom be thinking? 

One look at his friend made Guillermo relax a little. Aside from the trace of curiosity in his eyes, he seemed completely comfortable. He probably  _ had _ dealt with weirder people, having followed rock bands around the country and attended countless weddings. Guillermo showed him to the big blue room which would be Tom’s for the duration of his stay. He made sure he had fresh linen and towels, all the while Tom kindly telling him not to fuss. Guillermo couldn’t help it, though. He wanted to make up for Nandor’s behaviour. And when was the last time he’d had his own  _ guest _ ? Had he ever?

The vampire stood in the doorway and watched their every move with a judgemental frown. Guillermo grabbed some extra clothes from his drawers to take to Nandor’s crypt — everything else he needed was in his suitcase downstairs - and met Nandor at the door. Tom sauntered behind, looking a tiny bit cautious **.**

“Guillermo makes quite the model,” he tried in his most sincere voice. “Maybe tomorrow we can show you some photos?” 

Guillermo wanted to groan. Of course Tom knew his feelings for Nandor and  _ also _ his hesitancy in revealing any of those feelings, and he was sure his friend was just trying to help out, but this was the worst thing he could ask right now.

“Oh, I don’t think Nandor wants to see.” Guillermo felt his face heat up and prayed it didn’t show.

“I would love to,” Nandor said in a voice edged with venom. His eyes were practically stabbing Tom in the head. 

Guillermo felt suddenly tired. “It’s getting late,” he said - which sounded inane considering he’d been staying up past midnight these past two weeks. “I think I’ll hit the hay. Night, Tom.”

“Night, Guillermo,” Tom said heartily, then turned and nodded to Nandor. “It was nice to meet you, Nandor,” he said earnestly. “Hopefully after we’ve all had some rest, we can get to know each other better.”

_ He’s trying so hard, Nandor,  _ Guillermo thought in a silent plea, as he followed the vampire out of the room.

Nandor had the grace at least to wait until they were back in the foyer to start bickering. He rounded on Guillermo, his fangs bared.

“You brought some stranger into  _ my  _ house without my permission?” he demanded.

“I asked your permission! Several times!” Guillermo argued back. “Didn’t Colin pass on my messages?”

Nandor seemed to balk briefly at that. When he spoke again his voice was a smidge gentler, though he didn’t acknowledge Colin Robinson. He had more important things on his mind. “You know why I’m upset, don’t you?” he said evenly.

Guillermo pushed back the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he kept them glued to Nandor’s and set his jaw stubbornly. “I can guess.”

“And you’d be  _ wrong _ ,” Nandor said, poking him in the chest. “You think I didn’t see those photos of you? Standing in front of the big Hollywood sign? Eating that Baskin Robbins ice cream?”

Guillermo’s heart was still trying to catch up - it had stopped when Nandor had mentioned photos. Now he was just puzzled. “That wasn’t Baskin and Robbins—“

”Remember when I offered you my special ice cream coupon? Do you remember that, Guillermo?” Nandor sounded very upset. “And you wouldn’t take it. But you’re happy to go out and have ice cream with  _ Guy _ !”

Guillermo tried to exhale calmly through his nose, though he felt like screaming. “Firstly,  _ Guy _ ? His name is Tom. Secondly, that coupon expired like seven years ago. Thirdly, you offered it to me in the middle of winter. I had the flu.”

Nandor stuck his bottom lip out, irritated. “You could have pretended to take it.”

“Ugh!” Guillermo flung his hands into the air, beyond exasperated.

“Guillermo, I am disappointed by your insolence. Gloating all over the Face-Books with pictures of you in fancy places. How do you think that makes me look as your master? Allowing you to run off like that, while I have to fend for myself for two weeks? All of my clothes have bloodstains and I don’t know how to get them out!”

Guillermo did roll his eyes this time, and he turned and walked away. When Nandor realised he was headed for his old closet room, he called after him.

“My crypt, Guillermo! And I expect you to help me into my coffin tonight!”

Guillermo was too busy swallowing down tears and praying that Tom hadn’t heard that outburst to bother reminding Nandor of his new place in the pecking order. Ever since the night of the theatre massacre, Guillermo had become something of an equal with his housemates. They still treated him warily and preferred to ignore him for the most part, but neither Laszlo nor Nadja gave him commands anymore; he was able to have a say in things he previously couldn’t; and they even put up with the occasional vampire-slayer threat from him. 

Still, sometimes Guillermo wished they could just go back to their lives before, because his relationship with Nandor had changed to the point where the vampire often seemed cautious and even  _ more  _ standoffish than before. He saw his familiar in a different light now. Guillermo just wished he knew what  _ sort  _ of light. He’d confessed his worries to Tom numerous times during his holiday, usually over a few drinks. He’d strategically left out the vampire-slaughtering parts. Or anything vampire-related. But even talking to somebody else about it hadn’t made things any less murky. And Nandor’s unexpected reaction to him returning home had just confused him further.

Tom would probably say that Nandor was lashing out like this because he was too proud to admit he’d missed Guillermo. Guillermo wished he had that sort of confidence.

These crestfallen thoughts stayed with him as he reluctantly made his way to Nandor’s crypt to set up the chaise for sleeping. He snatched up his suitcase on the way. Nandor had disappeared by the time he reached the door, and he was thankful for that, which just made him feel even more pitiful.

He set up his suitcase next to the chaise and tried to focus on finding his toothbrush, but his thoughts were heavy with thunderclouds. Once upon a time, the thought of sleeping in Nandor’s room with him would have filled him with nervous excitement. Now he just felt dejected and embarrassed and wanted to forget tonight ever happened.

He’d gathered everything for a shower and was ready to head back out, when Nandor returned with a folded pile of blankets and sheets, topped with a clean pillow. He all but threw them in Guillermo’s face.

“There,” he said curtly. Guillermo fumbled with the bedclothes but didn’t miss the look of indignation the vampire gave him.

“I don’t know why you won’t let me just sleep in my old bed,” he grumbled.

“The stair closet is being used for storage,” Nandor said, proud of his quick thinking. Yes, Guillermo was aware there were two boxes in there. “Also I don’t trust that friend of yours. I want you to be here, where I know you will be safe.”

Guillermo was still in argument-mode and had to stop himself from spurting all of the problems with that idea. He bit his lip and tried to will his heart to beat normally. No matter how frustrated he was with Nandor, any little sliver of concern from the vampire had him fairly melting. He went to the chaise and threw down the bedclothes and then, in an attempt to hide his blush, pretended to arrange the bundle of clothes and toiletries resting under his arm.

“He’s a little old, isn’t he?” Nandor blurted from behind. That familiar petulance was back in his voice, but his words caught Guilermo off-guard. He spun around, his red face forgotten. He could have laughed...those simple words had practically announced Nandor’s jealousy to the world.

He decided to play dumb. “For a photographer? No,” he said with a shrug. “He’s like, early forties?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Nandor barked.

Guillermo approached the door, which meant approaching him. He put on his best poker face as he met Nandor squarely. “What do you mean, then?” There was a challenge in his voice.

Nandor looked incredibly uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so he shut it again and clenched his teeth. Guillermo slipped past him with an aggravated sigh, deciding to leave him to...whatever it was that went on in that brain of his.

  
  


Nandor was fuming! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this angry and upset and confused. Probably last week when Laszlo refused to let him borrow his cape. He should have been happy that his Guillermo was home; he could probably even forgive him for all his gloating and for making Nandor feel fuzzy and strange with his sexy photo. But instead Nandor had to worry about his familiar doing the hanky-pankies with this  _ Guy _ -Tom he’d dragged home!

His only comfort was that Guillermo’s blood still had the sweet, succulent smell of a virgin. His new boyfriend had yet to ravish him, and Nandor intended to keep it that way. He let out a small groan and flopped down on the chaise, forlorn. What did this Guy have that Nandor didn’t? Dimples? A pert butt? 

“I have a nice butt too,” he grumbled to himself. Then he realised that it was always hidden beneath his capes and not often out on display for everyone to witness. Perhaps he needed to make a few changes; not only to his wardrobe, but to his general demeanour. Perhaps he had to be a little less relentless towards Guillermo and a little more...Jeebus forbid...caring? It was just temporary, after all. He just had to win back his familiar and get rid of that pesky photographer man.

He stood up, content with his plans, and made Guillermo’s makeshift bed, even going as far as to fluff his pillow. As he tried to detangle himself from a sheet - how had he managed to wrap it around himself three times? - he thought of Guillermo’s photo, and his dead heart got phantom pains. The way he’d stared into that lens, his eyes drowsy, his lips slightly parted...Nandor wanted to be looked at that way. He wanted to wake up to see that exact image in the flesh. But even now, with his feelings clear as crystal and screaming at his brain, he blocked out those thoughts and came up with a far more appropriate excuse for his behaviour. Guillermo was  _ his _ familiar, and thus he should be focusing all of his attention on  _ him _ !

He would make Guillermo see that he was more than worthy. He  _ would  _ win him back. He looked down at the man’s suitcase by the lounge. He certainly wasn’t a snoop, but he may as well start doing the “nice” things and help his familiar unpack? There was a spare drawer in Nandor’s vanity where he’d kept his glittery scrunchies before finding out they’d been invented for women (which was absurd, but he couldn’t allow his masculinity to be threatened). The little compartment would fit some of his clothes. 

Nandor would never admit to anyone - and certainly not himself - that he was a little excited over the prospect of a week-long slumber party. Even if their sleeping schedules didn’t match up. Even if Guillermo would be spending his days with  _ Guy _ -Tom. He pushed away the ugly thought and went to work unzipping the suitcase. His knees cracked as he bent down. Ugh. This was not a job for a fearsome warrior! He bit back a snarl and reminded himself to be... _ nice _ . The very word made him shiver in disgust.

Guillermo’s clothes were neatly folded in his suitcase. There were a lot that Nandor had never seen before. No doubt _Guy-Tom_ had showered him in such gifts. If Nandor knew Guillermo liked clothes, he would have given him some of his old vests! He grabbed one of the folded piles and placed them in the drawer with a grumble. It didn’t take long to fill, but Nandor was almost at the bottom of the suitcase by then, where Guillermo had put his belts and aftershave and some books. He picked one up and flicked through it. Some kind of vampire erotica. 

“I’m surprised it’s not about sexy photographers,” he mumbled petulantly, before placing the stack of books on the vanity. He came back to the suitcase to unpack Guillermo’s aftershave and other little nick-nacks, but in doing so he brushed a crumpled shirt aside and saw something that made him freeze on the spot. Hidden beneath all his stuff was a thick, disturbingly realistic dildo, and a generously-sized bottle of lube.

His lips stretched back in an even bigger grimace. “Oh, fuck this!” he growled. He was about to stand when a little black rectangle caught his attention. There were two buttons on it, and Nandor’s curiosity was immediately piqued. If there were ever a button that needed pressing, Nandor was on the job. On the nights he would accompany Guillermo to the big market for groceries, he would press every button in sight. The big silver buttons on traffic lights were his favourite. Guillermo was constantly slapping his hand away from buttons, but humans just didn’t understand how much joy these little inventions could bring to an ancient vampire like him.

_ These  _ little black buttons did  _ not _ bring him joy, however. The moment he pressed one, the dildo began to emit a high-pitched buzzing noise and began to jump about in the suitcase. Nandor bit back a shriek and pressed the button again to turn it off. It didn’t turn off. Instead, the vibrations changed to a faster rhythm. 

“ _ Shit!”  _ Nandor hissed, punching the button again and again, all the while his stomach in his throat, the dildo performing a ceaseless orchestra of buzzes. When the buzzing reached a crescendo, he dropped the rectangle and jumped to his feet. He looked around the room in a desperate panic, trying to find...something... _ anything _ that would stop the droning.

Then the door opened.

Nandor froze again.

“What...what are you doing?” Guillermo squeaked from behind him, and then came the rush of footsteps, and beneath that the rush of a frantic heartbeat. Guillermo was kneeling before his luggage in an instant, rushing to turn off the toy and quickly shut his suitcase. Nandor watched in utter shock - and a little dismay when he realised he’d been pressing the wrong button the entire time.

Guillermo stood and swung around to face Nandor in one smooth motion. The familiar’s cheeks blazed a delicious hot pink.

“Were you going through my stuff?” he demanded. There were tears of embarrassment in his eyes.

“I was helping you unpack!” Nandor said defensively. “It’s not my fault you and your  _ Guy-Tom  _ are into kinky buttons!”

_ “What?” _ Guillermo stuck his fingers beneath his new glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nostrils. He appeared to be deliberating, and it was times like these that Nandor wished he could read Guillermo’s mind. He had tried once before, after watching Twilight, but all  _ that _ had resulted in was him projecting his own thoughts into Guillermo’s mind. And that hadn’t gone down well with the human. Nandor reminded himself to be  _ nice _ . Even if it meant swallowing a little pride.

“Are you embarrassed, Guillermo?” he asked in a gentler tone. Guillermo simply gave him an incredulous look, so Nandor continued. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I have used  _ much _ bigger dildos. In fact, that one is quite small in comparison.” He tried to keep the pride from his voice but failed. He didn’t want to upset his familiar by assuming he couldn’t handle a bigger dildo. Unfortunately, Guillermo still looked like he wanted to cry.

“I think I’m going to sleep now,” he said in an empty voice. “Wake me up when you want to be put to bed. And, uh, thank you for making my...lounge…”

He didn’t  _ sound _ very thankful, but Nandor decided to let it go just this once. He also decided to let Guillermo sleep and put himself to bed tonight, if he was able to without hurting himself again. Hopefully his familiar would realise soon enough just how much effort he was putting into this being  _ nice _ thing.


	3. Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor tries his hand at modelling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, big thank you to @Chelsfic for beta-ing this chapter and giving me lots of encouragement!!
> 
> And a big thank you to all my readers who have been commenting and leaving kudos on my recent works!! I've had the brain scramblies bad lately, so I'm sorry it's taking forever to reply. But I appreciate you all SO MUCH <3

Guillermo slept undisturbed, though the chaise didn’t make for a great bed, and he was sore all over when he woke up. The first thing he thought about upon waking was that he might drag his old mattress in here later. The second thing he thought about was the fact that it was morning. He could see pale sunlight filtering through the black curtains, the thick fabric turning its dust-speckled tendrils blue. What time was it? Had Nandor put himself to bed? The lid of the coffin was shut, and as the haze in his head slowly dissipated, he could hear gentle, muffled snoring from inside. That was one endearing thing about Nandor: even after all these years, and despite the fact that his lungs seemed rather sedentary during his waking hours, his body still unconsciously resorted to its old breathing habits while he slept. He forced the little smile off his face and wiped any fantasies out of his head before they could fully take hold — he was supposed to be _angry_.

He’d cried himself to sleep last night, after Nandor had left to go hunt; all the while trying to convince himself that the vampire was only acting out like this because he thought something was going on between Guillermo and Tom and he was jealous. But Nandor was controlling if nothing else. It could be that he genuinely hated the idea of Guillermo having a life (including a lovelife) outside of his familiar duties, because he saw Guillermo as nothing more than a servant. It was that searing idea, and the fact that Guillermo wanted revenge for Nandor’s terrible behaviour, that kept him from telling the vampire that Tom was only a friend. A heterosexual friend.

He sat up and stretched with a pained groan, his back popping in several places. He was _definitely_ setting up a bed in here before tonight.

“Guillermo?” Nandor’s drowsy voice came from within the coffin. “Are you awake?”

“Yes M— _Nandor_.” Guillermo was secretly glad he caught himself. Old habits die hard, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d used the title without a second thought.

“What are you doing today?” he asked.

Guillermo raised an eyebrow. Nandor rarely asked him about his daily schedule. He knew precisely why he was asking now, though.

“I don’t know,” he replied casually. “Maybe take Tom to see his family. Go to the beach. I think he wanted to take some photos on the boardwalk.”

Nandor harrumphed and muttered something unintelligible before saying, “I expect you to be back at sunset to prepare my clothes and wake me.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Guillermo muttered.

“Thank you, Guillermo.”

Nandor wasn’t good at picking up sarcasm sometimes.

Guillermo took Tom to a local diner for breakfast. He wanted to get the man out of the house before discussing anything Nandor-related. They were sipping coffee and waiting on pancakes when Tom broke the silence.

“So, your _boss_ ,” he began, keeping his voice light.

Guillermo’s heart sunk. “I’m so sorry about last night,” he groaned, feeling his cheeks heat up. “He’s usually not that bad. He’s just very protective, see, and—”

“And he’s really into you,” Tom said with a grin. “I mean _really_. I could practically see the jealousy radiating off him.”

“Oh,” Guillermo breathed, and then shook his head. He tried to pick his next words carefully. “It’s not like that. Not really. He thinks I can only focus my attention on one person at a time, and that he’s the only one who I should be focusing on. Kind of...like a pet.”

“A pet?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you give your dog all this attention and then introduce another dog to the household, and the first dog thinks that you’ve forgotten all about them.” Guillermo gave a timid shrug. “It doesn’t matter how much attention I give him; he’ll still think I’ve forgotten about him.”

“So, puppy love?” Tom flashed one of his brilliant grins. Guillermo wanted to deny his words with a frown, but he found himself smiling back, a blush rising to his cheeks. The waitress brought their pancakes over just then, much to Guillermo’s relief. He hoped the conversation would venture into more comfortable territory, but Tom wasn’t done yet.

“So, have you tried telling him that we’re only friends?” he pressed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “That I’m straight?”

“Well, no,” Guillermo admitted shyly.

“You like making him jealous?” Tom’s eyes were nearly sparkling by now.

“No! I mean, would he even believe me?” Guillermo ducked his head and focused on eating his pancakes, willing his obvious blush to go away. Tom followed suit, and for a while they sat there in companionable silence, lost in their own thoughts, listening to the clinking of cutlery and lowered voices in the adjacent booths.

“You know,” Tom said after a while. “I have an idea. But I know you’ll hate it.”

Guillermo glanced up at him, the dripping pancake on his fork forgotten. His heart sped up, already sensing that this was going to be terrible.

“What is it?” he asked cautiously.

Tom swallowed a mouthful of food, took a sip of his coffee, and then smirked, pointing his syrupy fork at Guillermo. “Nandor’s a pretty good-looking guy, from what I saw last night,” he said. “You two could make for a cute couple’s shoot.”

Guillermo lost his appetite all of a sudden. He dropped his fork gently onto his plate. “That’s really nice of you to offer,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “but I don’t think Nandor would be interested in...in that.”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask, could it?” Tom said with a shrug.

_Oh, it could_ , Guillermo thought in dismay. He managed a nervous chuckle.

“I could be wrong,” Tom continued, “but the feeling I got from meeting Nandor last night was that he’s a little awkward. Probably afraid to talk about his feelings and shit like that.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Guillermo muttered under his breath. _Did I mention he’s a seven-hundred-year-old warrior who’s spent his entire life spilling blood?_

The sides of Tom’s eyes crinkled with barely-concealed mirth. Guillermo knew that look. It was a _“You can’t see it, but I can”_ look.

“His accent?” the man prompted.

“Huh? Oh. Southern Iran.”

Tom made a humming noise as he sipped his coffee. “Probably a cultural thing, too, you know?”

Guillermo stifled a snort. Oh, if only Tom knew.

Thankfully the conversation drifted away from Nandor after that. Guillermo offered to drop his friend off at his parents’ place and then pick him up after his errands later that day. It was late afternoon -- later than he’d intended -- when he finally picked up Tom. He had spent much of the day looking for a new quill feather to meet Nandor’s specifications: “Fresh feathers only, Guillermo! Preferably from a swan - though be careful when plucking those because they bite. Oh, and Guillermo? I _will_ know if you went to the craft store like last time.”

By the time he pulled up in front of Tom’s parents’ place, he was covered in grass burns and there were leaves in his hair. Nandor hadn’t been lying; swans were crazy.

“You look like you’ve had an interesting day,” Tom said as he got in the car. “Thought you’d run off on me.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Guillermo gave him a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his hair, cringing when a twig fell out onto his shoulder. He quickly brushed it off. “Nandor wanted some feathers. For his, uh, craft project.” He tilted his head toward the backseat, where a bunch of long white feathers lay in a bundle. “He doesn’t like store-bought ones,” he added quickly. “So I had to search all the parks…” he trailed off as he pulled out onto the road, realising just how ridiculous he sounded.

“Wow, now that’s devotion,” Tom said with a hint of teasing in his otherwise hearty voice. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Guillermo was not prepared for what awaited him at home. Tom, of course, acted like it was totally natural to find a bear of a man on his hands and knees on the couch, arched like a cat who has broken its back mid-stretch; his jeans-clad ass pointed proudly at the lens of a boxy red Graflex View.

“Wow, nice!” Tom exclaimed. Guillermo thought he might faint until Tom approached Laszlo and his old camera, and he realised his friend had been talking about the Graflex and _not_ Nandor’s protruding booty.

Nandor looked behind his shoulder, but didn’t move from his position. “Oh, hello Guillermo,” he said with feigned interest. “Laszlo here had a sudden, irresistible urge to take photographs of me in seductive poses.”

“I fucking didn’t,” Laszlo grumbled. He was glaring at Tom, who was circling the antique camera with an awed gaze, as though it were made of diamond and not peeling plastic and rusting metal.

Nandor shuffled a little and grunted. “Is it ready yet, Laszlo? My knees are getting sore.”

“Where do I put the fucking film?” Laszlo hissed.

“Oh, let me see,” said Tom amiably. Laszlo seemed somewhat relieved when the man took over. “You might want to take a seat for a moment, Nandor. No use straining yourself.”

Nandor grumbled, but surprisingly he obeyed. He flopped onto his side on the lounge and rested his head against the armrest.

Guillermo used this moment to take in the scene before him. Nandor’s attempt at a seductive, dreamy pose had looked stiff and unnatural, and his smile at the camera (which, with all of Laszlo’s fumbling, was yet to snap an actual photo) had bordered on a grimace. But now, as the vampire lazed there with his hair loose and cascading over his shoulders, and his brow lowered in childish petulance, Guillermo felt positively on fire; his breath was struggling to escape his throat, and his heart felt like it had swollen to twice its usual size and was blocking something important.

Nandor. Looked. _Hot_.

Where he’d gotten the clothes from, Guillermo didn’t know, but they looked incredible on him. In place of his usual blouse and vest was a black pinstripe dress-shirt, whose hem hung loosely over crisp blue jeans and whose collar was unbuttoned and revealed a ‘V’ of dark chest hair. Over the dress shirt was a suede coat that was, of course, lined with soft fur. The chocolate colour of the fabric blended with his mane of hair. Did Nandor find these clothes himself? Did he go to all this trouble to prove some kind of point? Guillermo’s brain wasn’t working well enough to puzzle it out. He was at the boiling, glass-splitting, mercury-spilling point of his internal temperature gauge.

“Alright, film’s in,” said Tom. “Not sure if you’ll get anything from it, though. The roll may be damaged. It looks _old_.”

“I honestly could not give a single fuck,” Laszlo said boredly. “My lady wife is the one who is fond of the cursed picture-plates, but Nandor promised me a good _pompino_ if I took a few photos of him posing like a tart.”

Nandor hissed to shut him up. Tom was blissfully ignorant as he readied the camera. Then he was in photographer mode: explaining the inner workings of the 19th-century device while adjusting the old wooden tripod and encouraging Nandor into various poses. A few times he even approached Nandor, with a confidence that amazed Guillermo, and touched his arms, legs, head — gently coaxing him into slightly better positions. “We only have a limited amount of film,” he’d explain as he worked.

Most surprisingly of all — Nandor actually behaved himself. In fact, Guillermo couldn’t remember ever seeing the vampire so submissive; so small. Without his impressive ensemble of cape and vest and silk cravat, he lost the grandeur of his seven-hundred-year-old persona. He became human. In a daze, Guillermo took the seat adjacent to Nandor’s lounge and watched. Laszlo was also hanging back, either out of languid curiosity, or because of Nandor’s so-called promise (one that Guillermo really did _not_ want to think about right now).

Tom’s idea of a seductive pose thankfully did not include Nandor sticking his ass at the camera to the point his jeans strained against his cheeks. Nandor’s new poses were a little more subtle in their suggestiveness: arms stretched out on either side of him, draped across the backrest of the lounge; head drooped slightly so that his hair framed his high cheeks and his eyes stared out beneath heavy brows. A little smirk here. A twitch of the eyebrow there. Legs crossed. Legs casually spread. Hand resting on the hem of his jeans, pulling down ever so slightly to reveal a fine seam of creamy skin and dark, wiry curls. Hand carding through long, luscious hair while he craned his neck back and stared down the camera lens, his lips parted slightly.

By the time they were halfway through the roll, Guillermo had had to tactfully rest a cushion over his lap. If this went on much longer, he’d probably need to leave the room. Go take a cold shower. Just as the thought left his mind, Nandor’s eyes darted over to catch his gaze and hold it. Guillermo’s breath really had left him now.

This silent exchange was not lost on Tom, who had been viewing them upside-down and reversed through the viewing hood. He perked up immediately.

“Hey Guillermo, I’ve got a great idea,” he said with alarming enthusiasm. He gestured to his nervous friend. “Come over here a sec.”

Guillermo waited a few moments for the tent in his trousers to decamp, and then he gingerly got to his feet and made his way to where Tom stood behind the camera. He knew where this was headed, of course. Tom reached out and plucked a few leaves from Guillermo’s hair, dusted his sleeves and straightened his collar. All the while, Guillermo kept an eye on Nandor, who was opening and closing his mouth as if wanting to protest all of these intimate touches.

“Perfect,” Tom said finally, looking him over at arm’s length. “Go stand behind Nandor and we’ll get some shots of you both.”

Guillermo gulped and stayed put; he could practically _feel_ Nandor’s eyes burning into the back of his head. “Stand...behind Nandor?” he muttered.

In the end, Tom had to all but drag him to the back of the couch; gently, of course. “Stand just here, that’s it! And put your hands on Nandor’s shoulders.”

_Oh no_ , Guillermo thought with dread. _He doesn’t know I’m just some lowly familiar. Nandor isn’t going to like this. I’m sorry, Nandor._

He placed his palms on Nandor’s broad shoulders, so lightly that the fabric of the vampire’s jacket hardly dented. Nandor’s back stiffened noticeably. His hackles were raised. He was silently outraged...but he _was_ silent. For that, Guillermo was eternally grateful. He wanted nothing more than to touch his master more firmly (because in his head, Nandor was still his master, as much as he would never state it out loud); but there was a forcefield of choler surrounding him. He couldn’t see his face, but he imagined it was pinched in a grimace. Possibly even a snarl.

Tom was behind the camera again, making adjustments to the angle, alternating between glancing into the viewing hood and up at the awkward couple. Whoever viewed the developed photo later would find a grainy, black-and-white Nandor seated on the chaise with his legs tightly closed and his palms resting on his knees, his back straighter than usual, his eyes intense and his mouth pulled back in a scowl. Guillermo would be standing behind him, his hands hovering imperceptibly over Nandor’s shoulders, his eyebrows slanted up in worry - one of them slashed with a streak of mud.

“Nandor? Maybe try looking less…”

“Constipated,” Laszlo offered.

Nandor grunted, but all of a sudden his shoulders slackened and Guillermo, caught off-guard, clutched at them to keep from stumbling forward. He quickly flung his hands away with a tiny _peep_ , and then cautiously slid them back into place. He pressed a little firmer this time.

“Guillermo, you’re not trying to pet a wild lion!” Tom laughed. “I’m sure Nandor won’t bite.”

Laszlo snorted and turned away to hide his smile. Guillermo felt his master’s glare without needing to see it. He tried to straighten his eyebrows and breathe out the anxiety that was carved into his face in lines and bunches. Once he was happy with their poses, Tom took another snap and then gave them an appreciative nod.

“I might make you two my side-project while I’m here,” he mused.

Nandor shot out of his seat suddenly and spun around to face Guillermo. “I am _not_ having sex with that man!” he asserted, sticking an accusing finger at their guest.

Guillermo closed his eyes.

_Calm breaths._

_Mindfulness._

_Waterfalls._

He opened his eyes and quietly said, “He’s talking about taking photos of us. That’s all.”

Tom cleared his throat, his eyes wrinkling at the sides in amusement. “It’s, uh--” he checked his watch. “Seven-thirty. How does Italian sound? My shout.”

Laszlo raised an eyebrow at Nandor and gave him a smug smirk.

“Well technically you didn’t take any photos of me,” Nandor said, matching his smugness. “So no Italian for you!”

“You promised me a _pompino_!”

“Go pompino yourself!” Nandor stomped to the door and disappeared into the foyer.

_Nope,_ Guillermo thought with dread. _I don’t want to know._


	4. I don't believe in your sanctity, your privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am not your familiar,” he slurred. He wasn’t aware of himself now. An inky blackness was burning its way in from the edges of his vision. Later when he awoke, he wouldn’t remember staggering forward and swiping at Nandor’s cheek (and missing). He wouldn’t remember the look of hurt that flashed across his master’s face. And he wouldn’t recall dropping to the floor to let the darkness take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four! Not much happens, but things *should* get more exciting next chapter ;) Once again, huuuge thanks to Chelsfic for beta reading!!

When he was fourteen, Guillermo had been invited to a slumber party with a bunch of guys from school. They’d rented a few movies from Blockbuster, ordered pizza (Trent had stolen several bags of chips and candy from the adjacent convenience store) and spent the night pigging out and wrestling and punching and yelling and not really paying attention to the films. But then one of the boys put on  _ The Talented Mr. Ripley _ …and Guillermo found himself drawn to certain scenes. Unfortunately for him, one of his very heterosexual friends insisted on wrestling him at a particular moment, completely unaware that Jude Law was stepping naked out of a bathtub, bits and all. Guillermo had managed to scramble out from underneath his friend, but not before sporting a raging boner that was terribly conspicuous to the five other boys in the room.

That had been the most awkward moment of his life…up until now.

He was seated across from Tom in  _ Mimmo's Trattoria _ , a bowl of barely-touched carbonara staring up at him. The only comfort in the room was the gentle  _ clink clink _ of Tom’s knife and fork as he devoured his lasagna – it meant that Tom, at least, was able to preoccupy himself with something that wasn’t Colin’s incessant chatter. Every so often the man would make a polite, interested noise or a one-worded comment, but it was clear that even his usually high-spirited self was struggling under Colin’s talk about life insurance.

Guillermo felt sick to his stomach with nerves. He hazarded a glance to his right, where a brooding, hunched Nandor sat with his hands folded in his lap. Not once had he glanced at the plate in front of him, which offered a single slice of pepperoni pizza. Untouched, of course. He’d replaced his jeans and shirt for his usual attire, yet even now with the awkward silence and uncomfortable heat in his cheeks, Guillermo found himself pathetically aroused by the memory of his master in modern clothing. His mind kept playing over the fantasy of running his fingers through the thick, wiry chest hair that had peeked out from beneath the vampire’s loose collar.

_ God, Nandor _ , he thought with an internal groan that almost passed through his lips.  _ If only you knew what you do to me. _

Nandor seemed to be having very different thoughts. His eyes bore into Tom’s forehead, and Guillermo wondered if he was trying to see into the man’s mind. Probably not; he was obviously enjoying these feelings of jealousy and petulance far too much to even consider that Tom wasn’t gay. He’d rather put on a big show of being the alpha peacock and strut about with his glittery tailfeathers held high, pecking anybody who even attempted to look at Guillermo…

_ Why? _

__ __ If Nandor had ever felt any inkling of  _ anything _ towards his familiar, he’d done a good job keeping it repressed. Guillermo still couldn’t convince himself that Nandor’s jealousy was related to attraction or romance. Nandor simply didn’t want his little familiar torn from his domineering clutches. The awkwardness that had hung over him since arriving at the restaurant now sagged heavy with bitter resentment.

“Hey, Nandor,” Tom spoke up, cutting off Colin’s lecture about the intricacies of human communication and how they pertained to selling insurance. “Not feeling hungry?”

Nandor looked down at his meal for the first time. “I’m allergic to food,” he muttered.

“Oh…” Tom looked to Guillermo for confirmation, and the man gave a single nod.

“It’s true,” he said in a small voice. “He, uh, has a liquid diet.”

Tom made an intrigued noise but left it at that. Colin opened his mouth to continue when Tom cut him off again. “Suppose there’s not much use for those big teeth of yours, then?” he said with a grin. “Body modifications these days…insane stuff. I mean, no offense. They, uh, suit you.”

Nandor’s face had softened into a confused grimace, and he turned to stare at Guillermo.  _ The fuck is this guy talking about? _ his expression said.

“Yeah, my housemates really take their roleplaying seriously,” Guillermo mumbled. Presently, he considered hiding under the table. Tom gave a curious hum and nod, then went back to his dinner, allowing an antsy Colin to continue his monologue. He had a knack for segueing into even more mundane topics.

“The thing with social media is that decrypting the message becomes a lot harder than if we were talking face-to-face,” he explained around a mouthful of chicken cacciatore. “A lot of the context is lost. We have no other social cues like body language or tone of voice. Hmm.” He swallowed and took a slow, thoughtful sip of water. “That reminds me, Tom. I noticed you deleted that photo of Guillermo.”

Nandor tensed visibly in his seat and his scowl deepened. Guillermo imagined embers smoldering in his eyes, and his heart leapt into his throat. He looked from Nandor to Colin, and then to Tom – whose smile was uncharacteristically sheepish.

“ _ Yeah _ ,” he hissed in a voice that was, much to Guillermo’s dismay, apologetic. “I, uh, posted that one by accident.” He couldn’t quite meet his friend’s eyes.

“What…photo?” Guillermo asked at length, his chest burning.

“What _ photo _ ?” Nandor snapped, suddenly coming alive. “What do you mean by that? How many photos are there of you laying spread-eagle and naked on the bed while doing kissy-lips at the camera?”

Tom gave a cough, either to stifle laughter or keep from choking on his food. Nandor’s voice had risen considerably, and Guillermo felt the curious stares of other diners on his back. A dizzying, nauseating heat washed over him and went straight to his face. Despite Nandor’s completely erroneous description, he knew which photoshoot he was talking about. Panic gripped at him suddenly, and he stared at his dinner as though it were medusa’s hair.

“It was a good photo, Guillermo,” Colin offered genially. He was actively sucking the life out of them; Guillermo wished he’d suck away the shame and guilt as well. “You should have seen Nandor’s face when I showed him. His eyes lit up like X-mas lights.”

Guillermo’s head almost hit the ceiling when Nandor’s fist came down hard on the table, rattling the cutlery. “It made me very uncomfortable,” the vampire spat. “Seeing my innocent young familiar in that…that position!”

More heads turned. It was easy to ignore them; Guillermo’s surroundings were slowly being swallowed up. Between Nandor’s humiliating outburst and Colin’s incessant draining, he was starting to feel faint.

Still, he managed to stare Nandor in the eye and grit out, “Why don’t you tell us what this is really about?”

Nandor’s face lost some of its hardness for a moment. But he recognised the hidden challenge, and Nandor was nothing if not relentless. He stood up, almost tipping his chair over in the process.

“Do you want to leave me, Guillermo?” he demanded. “Go back across the country and pose for the sexy magazines? Is that what you want?” He hesitated a moment, as if only now realising where they were. As if only now noticing the half-conscious state of his energy-drained familiar. “Well…well go then! I relieve you of your familiar duties!”

Guillermo was barely holding onto consciousness, but he heard the words and they impaled him like ice stakes. He got to his feet and faced Nandor, leaning heavily on the small table. There was nobody else,  _ nothing _ else, in the restaurant except them.

“I am  _ not _ your familiar,” he slurred. He wasn’t aware of himself now. An inky blackness was burning its way in from the edges of his vision. Later when he awoke, he wouldn’t remember staggering forward and swiping at Nandor’s cheek (and missing). He wouldn’t remember the look of hurt that flashed across his master’s face. And he wouldn’t recall dropping to the floor to let the darkness take him.

*****************

The restaurant seemed to gasp in unison. The air filled with the clanking of fallen forks. Someone dropped their wineglass into their Spaghetti Napolitana and splattered their date. Then came the slow wave of uneasy, worried murmurs. Guillermo didn’t hear any of it.

He also didn’t hear Nandor yell, “Colin Robinson, fucking guy!”

Colin Robinson was still coming down from an unbelievable high, his eyes still glowing blue as his snarl faded. When he fully came to, he saw Guillermo’s unmoving body and simpered.

“Sorry,” he said nonchalantly. “Got a little carried away. Who knew I’d get dinner  _ and _ a show?”

Nandor made to hiss at him before remembering where he was, and  _ who _ he was with. A rather pale Tom had bolted out of his seat and was now fussing over Guillermo’s unconscious body. Presently he was lightly slapping the man on the cheek.

“Should we call an ambulance?” he asked, looking up at Nandor for affirmation.

“He’ll be fine,” Nandor snapped.

“I don’t know,” Colin said with feigned uncertainty. “Could be a case of the brain-scramblies. He’s drooling. Maybe we should call for help.”

Nandor growled. He did not like taking the advice of  _ Guy-Tom _ . This was all  _ Guy-Tom’s _ fault, after all. Guillermo hated him because of this pathetic yet handsome human male who was some kind of expert at human courting.

“Guillermo!” he shouted, nudging his familiar with the toe of his boot. “I command you wake this instant!”

“He’s out.” That was Colin, stating the obvious.

“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” a waiter asked, pushing through the small group that had gathered around Table 14.

“I think you probably should call an ambulance,” a diner supplied. A few people were hesitantly producing their phones in offering, though more seemed to be discreetly (or not so discreetly) taking photos and recordings.

Nandor huffed in exasperation and stooped to lift Guillermo in his big arms. He did it with the frustration of a man who doesn’t have unimaginable strength. Guillermo was dead to the world, his limbs hanging awkwardly and smacking against the vampire’s thighs as he was carried to the restaurant’s entrance.

Tom and Colin lingered behind – Tom was hurriedly paying the bill, and Colin was using the tension-filled exchange to leave a verbal Yelp review. Nandor wanted to get as far away from  _ Guy-Tom _ as possible, with Guillermo in tow of course, because  _ Guy-Tom _ was a terrible influence. Yes. That was the only reason why he clutched Guillermo close to his chest and flew him home. He absolutely did not secretly delight in feeling the weighted warmth of his living, breathing, albeit unconscious familiar beneath him as the cold New York air caressed his cheeks.

They were a block away from the house when Guillermo stirred. He mumbled incoherently into Nandor’s vest (which was fairly covered in drool by now), and then his entire body went rigid. A moment later he shrieked and his limbs came alive as he flailed and grappled for purchase. In his confused state, he grabbed a fistful of Nandor’s hair and tried to scramble further up the vampire’s torso.

“Gyah!” Nandor squawked, and tried to tug his head away. “Guillermo, stop it! You’re safe!” He listened to Guillermo’s heart falter a moment before slowly easing into a normal rhythm. The blood in his veins became quieter, though Nandor could still hear it like the distant gushing of a swift stream. After his aimless flailing, Guillermo had instinctively wound his arms around Nandor’s neck and buried his head in the firm fabric of his vest, and now Nandor listened to his familiar’s blood as the man became fully aware of what was going on. Twelve years around the same human meant that Nandor could read even the most subtle changes in blood flow, scent, hormones – they gave him a glimpse into Guillermo’s head that his familiar was completely unaware of.

They flew with their chests pressed firmly together in an awkward bearhug, one of Nandor’s arms secured around his familiar’s back while his other arm held him under his backside so that his legs wouldn’t dangle so much. It was uncomfortable for Nandor, and probably more so for Guillermo, yet the human’s body immediately reacted to their necessary closeness – all the blood was rushing out of his important organs and down to the one that was definitely _not_ important right now. Nandor tried to hide his grimace, and in his determination to remain cool he accidentally clutched Guillermo tighter, eliciting a tiny but brazen mewl from the man.

Nandor almost dropped him.

“N-Nandor?” Guillermo uttered a moment later. To anyone else his voice would have been lost in the headwind, but Nandor heard it as clearly as he could hear his human’s pulse.

“Colin drained you in the restaurant,” he explained, his own voice firm and clear over the rush of wind. “You passed out. What is your name, Guillermo?”

“Huh?” His familiar’s voice was hoarse. “Guillermo?”

Nandor hummed. “Very good. You don’t have the brain scramblies.” He left it at that, too afraid to delve into that strange emotion that had spread warm tendrils through his body upon Guillermo’s waking; the feeling that was  _ definitely _ platonic and not some kind of sickening, sentimental feely-feel.

*****************

Nandor deposited Guillermo safely on the path leading up to the house. Guillermo reluctantly stepped back, sliding his hands off Nandor’s neck and allowing them to perch on the vampire’s chest for a fraction of a second, under the guise that he was still steadying himself. If Nandor knew better, he didn’t show it. He was guarded as usual; his eyes gazing over Guillermo’s head, his stance rigid as steel.

“Thank you,” Guillermo said softly, his voice hoarse from the cold wind. He looked around and saw the car gone. “Tom?”

Nandor’s lips curled in a silent snarl and his eyes darkened, but he still wouldn’t meet his familiar’s gaze. “Still at the restaurant I suppose,” he snapped. “Why?”

“You flew me home? Without them?”

“They wanted to call an ambulance!” Nandor yelled defensively. His fists were pale balls at his sides and his fangs were sticking out from pouty lips. “You should be grateful! I could have left you there on the floor while everyone put silly videos of you on the Face Books. You tried to hit me! You deserved to stay there! But no, I thought I’d do the right thing—”

“ _ Thank you _ , Nandor,” Guillermo repeated, though his voice was spiritless. He hadn’t meant to come across sounding accusatory. “I appreciate it. I do.”

Nandor grunted and jostled past, his cape fluttering behind and snapping his familiar in the thigh. Guillermo hurried to follow, narrowly avoiding having the door slammed in his face when Nandor didn’t bother looking behind him.

“Be more careful!” the vampire admonished when Guillermo made a noise of protest. “Help me to my coffin, Guillermo. I wish for an early slumber.”

“Yes, Nandor,” Guillermo said dutifully. He still felt a little shaky on his feet – the tiredness wore on him like a ton of lead – but at least this was familiar territory. He was used to getting this giant toddler off to bed. He followed Nandor into the crypt, and his heart did a little flip when he saw last night’s makeshift bed and its rumpled sheets. He’d forgotten all about Nandor’s weird temporary bedroom rule. The vampire was struggling with a clasp on his cape, and his muttered curse snapped Guillermo from his thoughts. He stepped forward and took the clasp himself, making an effort to touch Nandor’s hand on the way. But his master flung his arms back like he’d been stung.

“Finally decided to help, did you?” he snapped **.**

Guillermo ignored Nandor’s pettish tone and slid the cape away with ease. “I’m going to bring my old bed in here,” he said as he folded the thick length of cloth. He felt rather than saw Nandor’s eyes boring into his skull.

“What’s wrong with the chaise?” he demanded. “I don’t want some old stinky--”

“It’s uncomfortable, Nandor,” Guillermo interrupted. “But if you don’t want it in here, I’ll go sleep in my old room.” He kept his voice casual and his face schooled into impassivity, but it was easier said than done when all his mouth wanted to do was break into a sardonic grin. He was so caught up in Nandor’s unwittingly funny anger that he was hardly aware that muscle-memory had him unbuttoning his master’s vest. When he finally noticed, he helped strip it away with a severe blush.

Nandor was positively bristling. “I suppose you need me to rearrange the entire room to accommodate you now, hm? I suppose you want me to carry the fucking thing in here, too?”

Guillermo draped the vest over the vanity and shrugged. “If we move the chaise back to its corner, the bed will fit in here,” he said. Then added, as casually as possible, “But if you don’t want to help, I can ask Tom to—”

Nandor hissed loudly and Guillermo coughed to hide the amused giggle that tickled the back of his throat. The vampire pushed past him, though this time he had no cape to snap Guillermo with on the way out. He always looked much smaller without his outer layers, but even as Guillermo followed him the short distance to his old closet-room, he still felt like a tiny fry swimming in the shadow of a shark.

Colin and Tom were coming through the front door as Nandor maneuvered the little bed and mattress out of the tiny cramped room. Guillermo, who had offered to help but was immediately snapped at, stood back with a red face as his houseguest approached. Tom was grinning from ear-to-ear with relief.

“Guillermo! Glad to see you up and at ‘em,” he said, and he came up beside his friend and patted him gently on the shoulder. “You beat us back, too! Did you take a taxi?”

Guillermo made an ambiguous noise of assent. Nandor had been busy tugging the bed around the doorframe, but now he took a short reprieve in order to let loose a growl. The sound emitted from deep within his chest, and was not unlike the warning a dog makes when a stranger comes too close to its territory. Guillermo hid his smile **.** Nandor hauled the bed over one shoulder, which caused Tom’s eyes to widen in surprise.

“Wow,” he said quietly, once the vampire was out of sight. “He’s  _ strong _ .”

Colin made a ‘heh’ noise and opened his mouth, no doubt to say the first cringe-inducing thing that came to his head. Guillermo hurried to get in first.

“Thanks for dinner, Tom,” he said quickly. “It was really good. But I feel exhausted.”

Tom took the hint, and blessedly didn’t comment on the fact that Guillermo hadn’t  _ touched _ his carbonara. “I won’t keep you from your bed, then,” he said amiably, and then leant in to lightly nudge his friend’s arm. “Or from Nandor.” He gave a sly wink.

The blush that graced Guillermo’s face reached his hairline. He couldn’t get away any faster. “Night.”

“Night,” Colin said automatically. Guillermo listened as the energy vampire requested that Tom join him for a game of cards, and he felt a little guilty. The moment he saw his old bed, though, and Nandor draping the sheets and blankets from the chaise over it, he wanted to fall onto his mattress and never wake up.

“There,” Nandor snapped petulantly when the bed was made. It wasn’t done very neatly, and he put a sheet on top of the blanket, but it was the thought that counted. Nandor had probably never made a proper bed in his life. The thought filled Guillermo with a swell of affection, and the smile that lit his face was genuine.

He approached Nandor to admire his master’s hard work. Had he felt even a shred of courage at that moment, he would have confessed everything then and there: that Tom was straight, that his little ‘side-project’ was simply an attempt to force Nandor and Guillermo closer. He’d have confessed that he’d just been teasing this whole time, because he secretly relished in making Nandor jealous. Later he’d look back at this lost moment with bittersweet regret.

“Thank you,” was all he said.

“Now will you put me to bed?” Nandor demanded in that same irritable tone. Clearly he was in a mood. Guillermo pushed back the urge to hug him, and instead helped him with his boots, brushed his hair, and held his cold hand as his master lowered himself into the coffin. On the nights (or early mornings) he put his master to bed, he would allow his hand to linger inside Nandor’s, or brush his thumb imperceptibly over the back of his hand. Tonight, though, Nandor flung his hand away with an angry sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. His smoldering eyes were on the ceiling, his brow furrowed.

“Goodnight, Guillermo,” he gritted out. It was clear he only said it because of tradition. Guillermo reached out and pulled the lid down over the coffin.

“Goodnight, Nandor,” he whispered meekly, before shutting the heavy lid.


	5. BAT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guillermo experiences a tiny, awkward bit of affection. Nandor is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Chelsfic for BETAing as usual! She has amazing fics go read them now: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelsfic

The night’s events left Guillermo utterly depleted, to the point that even his innate vigilance was beyond reach. He didn’t hear the muffled cries, or the groaning of old, shifting timber that accompanied them. But the _crash_ that followed was loud enough to wake the dead. Guillermo’s body sprang to life at the sound before his brain could, but the haze quickly dissipated when he realised the panicked yelling that filled the room belonged to _Nandor_.

Guillermo’s heart was in his throat as he scrambled out of bed and onto the floor. It was pitch-black in the room – the darkest hours of predawn. He was vaguely aware of a blazing heat in his left cheek, and the taste of blood in his mouth. Instinctively he reached for the stake hidden behind his suitcase at the foot of the bed, but his fingers had only brushed the smooth, polished wood when two impossibly-strong arms wrenched him back. He cried out in alarm and fought against his assailant’s grip, desperately trying to reach back for the stake…his one and only defense.

“Guillermo!” Nandor’s voice was loud; close. Cold breath caressed the shell of Guillermo’s ear. A familiar scent encased him: dust and cedar, the spicy fragrance of oils, the underlying warmth of skin and musk and home. Guillermo fought back the desire to sag against Nandor’s chest, to revel in the feeling of his master’s strong arms around his midsection and the feeling of that cold breath so close to his neck. But the room was pitch-black and there was an intruder and they were in danger…

He grabbed the stake and sprang to his feet, before diving for the lamp on Nandor’s vanity. Miraculously he didn’t smash a knee or snag his shirt against anything along the way. He flicked the lamp’s tiny rusted switch and welcomed the flood of coppery light. It illuminated a space where Nandor’s beloved coffin had sat for two hundred years. Briefly Guillermo dropped his eyes to the remains of the 18th century casket – a terrible, jagged sculpture of splintered wood and tattered fur. Stake raised high, body braced, he scanned the rest of the room.

“Guillermo,” Nandor muttered dejectedly. “There is nobody in here except us.”

Guillermo scanned the room once more before lowering the stake. He looked over at a dazed Nandor, who was presently leaning against Guillermo’s bed. The vampire’s face was paler than usual, his eyes wet and shiny. His cheeks were speckled with blood from cuts that had already healed. Guillermo remembered the wetness on his cheek and he slapped a hand against the stinging cut. Three inches long, it branched out from the bridge of his nose and over his cheekbone. Tiny splinters fell away from the wound as he slid his hand away. His fingers were bloody.

“W-what happened?” he asked hoarsely. The adrenaline was already beginning to fade, his heart slowing to a more respectable speed. Nandor looked a mess, covered in debris, but he was safe at least. The window and curtains were undisturbed, as was the door. Guillermo gave the vampire an incredulous look. “Did…did you fall out of your coffin?”

Nandor was on his feet and in defensive mode in an instant. “I had a bad dream!” he said. “I must have been rocking in my coffin. I don’t know. I was asleep!”

Guillermo looked down at the broken casket. Its polished, antique wood was snapped and warped in several places. Only the lid was still fully intact. He placed the wooden stake on Nandor’s vanity, ignoring the way his master screwed his nose up at the profane weapon. Then he approached Nandor, intent on cleaning the dust and debris from his shoulders and head. Nandor’s eyes widened and he flinched away, his calves hitting the side of the bed and dropping him. He sat down hard and put his hands out in front of him in protection.

“You’re bleeding,” he said accusingly.

Guillermo stopped in his tracks. He understood. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Nandor replied. He refused to look at his human parading his deliciously bloody face around. He didn’t notice Guillermo’s expression change from one of confusion to one of dark determination. Guillermo rushed forward suddenly and sat beside Nandor, compelling the vampire to face him.

“What was it about?” he asked. He had an inkling of an idea…

“Nothing,” Nandor said curtly. He wanted to look away, but he was imprisoned in Guillermo’s eyes. His expression softened into one of embarrassment, though there was still a smoldering blood-hunger in his gaze.

“Nothing?” Guillermo tore his eyes away to settle on the destroyed coffin once more. “Nandor, that didn’t look like _nothing_. You must have been terrified to be thrashing around so much.” He paused to gaze at Nandor again. They rarely faced each other like this, and in such close proximity. Guillermo could so easily reach out and touch his cheek, or press his lips…

“It was about…” The words burst out of Nandor’s mouth and he stopped short. Panic tightened the muscles in his face. He managed to look away, his eyes sweeping the room, as if searching for an answer. “Uh…my fangs…falling out.”

Guillermo didn’t even bother humoring him. “Was it about me?” he questioned. Nandor’s surprised look was all the answer he needed; all it took to spur him on. “Was I in danger?”

“Yes,” Nandor said, a little too quickly. His face lit up. “Yes, that was it. You were being attacked. By…by vampires!”

“And you were thrashing about because…you were fighting them off?” Guillermo asked at length.

“Yes!” Nandor said triumphantly. “And that is how I broke my coffin.” He was about as artful as a three-year-old. Guillermo refrained from rolling his eyes. He shifted, and suddenly their knees were touching, and he felt his face flush.

“Was it about Tom?” he asked in a voice that was firmer than he’d intended.

Nandor bared his fangs in outrage. “Why would I dream about _that_ guy?” he demanded. He twitched as if meaning to stand, but decided against it. His eyes flickered to their touching knees; he did a poor job at hiding his glance. Guillermo wondered with a little gush of warmth if he was secretly enjoying the light contact. “Do you think I’m jealous of _Guy-Tom_? Do you think I care that you follow him around like a doting little puppy, helping him with his picture boxes, doing the naked poses for him, taking him out to lunches…” Nandor trailed off. His attempts to inject venom into his words were fruitless, his voice thick and sulky.

“Nandor,” Guillermo said, a little too breathlessly. Nandor lived in contradiction, but Guillermo had learned how to read what was beneath his words. Without another thought he leaned forward, eyes fluttering closed.

“Guillermo?” Nandor’s voice was an uncertain waver. “Are you going to…?”

Their lips met. It was brief and light and chaste, yet it filled Guillermo with an adoring warmth that he was sure he’d never felt before. Nandor’s lips were tightly pursed, his eyes wide open in confusion, but he didn’t pull away.

 _He’s letting me…_ Guillermo thought, his heart soaring. _My first kiss…oh my god. I’m really doing this. We’re really kissing._

The door flung open with a loud bang. Nandor screamed. There was a strange _pop_ and _squeak_ , and suddenly the space where Nandor had been sitting was empty, save for a fine haze of dust that settled over Guillermo’s knee. Guillermo watched in dismay as a little black bat fluttered frantically over Nadja’s head and out the door.

“What the fucking hell is going on in here? What was all that crashing?” Nadja shrieked, bustling into the room while sporting her signature grimace. A moment later, Laszlo and Tom appeared from behind. Tom was faced the other way, watching the strange little critter continuously bang against the front door.

Laszlo groaned upon seeing the smashed coffin. “Oh no,” he said. “Not _Shirley_. Nandor loved this girl.”

Guillermo got to his feet and shrugged on a thick robe, before rushing to the door. “Excuse me,” he said meekly, as he pushed past their intruders. By the time he reached the hallway, Nandor was gone, no doubt having found an easier escape route. Guillermo checked the time: 6am. The sun would be up any time now. That meant the vampire couldn’t have gone far. He knew where to find him.

Guillermo was greeted by an annoyed huff and an eyeroll as he climbed out through the attic window.

“How did you find me?” Nandor grouched. He sat a few feet away from the open window, his shoulders hunched, his eyes on the dark neighborhood below. A cool, playful breeze toyed with his hair.

“You always come up here when you’re upset,” Guillermo remarked, not unkindly. He lowered himself to the roof and cautiously shuffled over until he was seated beside Nandor. He allowed himself a good look at his master. The predawn light cast the vampire in pastel blue, making his skin translucent, the shadows around his eyes fading into a dusky purple. The hazy, surreal light made him look almost human – albeit a very sickly, pale one. Guillermo realized, with a pang in his heart, that he rarely saw Nandor in any light other than the dim, orange glow of a lamp or candle. He would never see Nandor in the daylight, except under the protection of shadows. Even now, at this time of morning, Guillermo knew they were playing with fire…quite literally.

“Come inside and we can talk about everything,” he urged softly, giving the vampire’s sleeve a gentle tug. What would Nandor do if Guillermo reached over and cupped his cheek? If he kissed it? Guillermo had almost gathered enough courage to do it, to peck him on the jaw, when there was that familiar _squeak!_ again and Nandor was gone.

For a split-second Guillermo thought Nandor must have read something in his face and guessed what he was about to do, but then he felt the sharp pin-pricks of claws against the skin of his belly and a sliver of bright orange light hit his eyes. A thin tendril of smoke drifted past his face. Guillermo looked down in alarm at the wriggling lump beneath his robe. Carefully he peeled back the hem and locked eyes with a bat. As in human form, bat-Nandor was larger than the other two, resembling a small flying fox. His eyes were big and reflective against his mottled brown and black fur as he regarded the now much-larger human. The claws of his back legs dug into Guillermo’s shirt as he clambered for purchase, piercing the soft skin there. Guillermo couldn’t hide the smile of admiration that lit his face as he pulled the robe closed and loosely tied it. He crept inside, careful not to put too much weight on the little bundle under his robe. Occasionally Nandor would let out a little high-pitched whine and scratch around, and as Guillermo flinched away from the painfully ticklish sensation, he wondered if Nandor was doing it on purpose to pester him. Once back in the safety of the attic, window closed and shuttered, Guillermo undid his robe and shook it out. Nandor squeaked loudly in protest and hopped comically over to Guillermo’s arm. He scurried down to rest in Guillermo’s hand, his little wing talons poking and manipulating Guillermo’s fingers.

“What are you doing?” Guillermo brought his hand up, close to eye level, and saw the dried blood there. Nandor’s button-nose sniffed at the stain, and then a little pink tongue flicked out from his mouth and began to lick at the blood. “Hey!” Guillermo said, grimacing in disgust. He shook his hand and Nandor squeaked and growled and then fell to the floor with a _plop_.

The bat disappeared in a puff of smoke, and a grouchy, confused vampire took its place. Nandor looked around at the shadowy attic, as if only just noticing where they were. He was on his ass, legs splayed out in front of him, arms supporting the bulk of his weight. He looked up at Guillermo with a glare.

“Swat me, then!”

“You were drinking my blood!”

“And it tasted like shit!” The vampire scrambled to his feet and straightened his coat, which still somehow held splintery remnants of his coffin. He pushed past Guillermo with a growl, briefly turning to glance down at his ex-familiar’s face, his eyes lingering on his bloody cheek. “You need a shower, too.” He tilted his head, and for one heart-stopping moment Guillermo thought he was going to kiss him, but the vampire was hesitant, eyeing the cut with poorly-disguised thirst. He came back to himself quickly and snarled. “And get rid of that thing!” he said, sticking a finger at Guillermo’s cheek before spinning on his heels and storming away.

Guillermo splashed water onto his face and used a cloth to wipe the dried blood from his cheek and fingers. His mind replayed the morning over in vivid detail: the coffin mysteriously crashing to the floor; his first cautious kiss; bat-Nandor licking his finger (which, he was loathe to admit, was kind of adorable) …and the ever-deepening strangeness of Nandor’s behaviour. He flung the wet cloth into the basin and sighed, reaching for a hand towel to dry himself as he watched his reflection in the mirror. He looked about as tired as he felt. Heavy bags hung under his eyes; eyes that were ringed in dark purple circles. His mouth was downcast and he was sure there were new lines on his forehead. He looked his age.

It was time to come clean, he decided. Tell Nandor that he and Tom weren’t involved in any way, that Tom was _straight_ , that he’d teased and played along to see how far he could get with making Nandor jealous. That Tom was _helping_ ; that he was actively trying to draw them closer. And it had worked in some ways, hadn’t it? They had kissed, less than a half hour ago. Guillermo’s stomach fluttered and he clutched the basin and closed his eyes, feeling the events of the morning catch up with him. He was dizzy with tiredness.

He left the bathroom for the crypt. He hadn’t thought to consider Nandor’s sleeping arrangements now that his coffin was a write-off, so when he saw the vampire sprawled over his old bed on his stomach, his heart stopped. Nandor let out a long, husky groan that rushed wickedly to Guillermo’s groin. The pleasant noise ended in his name, and Guillermo imagined it being moaned out under different circumstances. He discreetly held his hands in front of him.

“This bed is so _good_ ,” Nandor continued, his voice muffled by the blanket. “So much _space_.”

“Oh…” was all Guillermo could manage. The bed itself was little more than a cot…narrow and rigid, with a thinning mattress. If Nandor felt so comfortable in _this_ thing, he didn’t know what he was missing out on in the big blue room. Guillermo only became more aroused at the thought, and he shifted on his feet, blushing.

“Look Guillermo! I can stretch my arms out.” Nandor demonstrated, his hands dangling off the sides. “And my legs.” He made a starfish shape.

“Wow.” Guillermo raised his eyebrows, then realized Nandor couldn’t see his fake interest and dropped it. He let out a huge yawn. “Can I have my blanket?”

Nandor retracted his limbs and rolled onto his side, kicking down the blanket in the process with his socked feet. Then he swept it up over his shoulders, much to Guillermo’s dismay. He just wanted to _sleep_. “It’s a very comfortable blanket,” Nandor commented, bunching it up under his chin. Guillermo sighed and switched the lamp off, plunging the room into murky darkness. He was too tired to go search for another blanket.

He had all but resigned himself to either fighting Nandor for it or sleeping in the cold, on the chaise, when Nandor spoke up again, his lumpy silhouette shifting in the dark. “Guillermo? Will you stay while I go to sleep?” His voice was pitiably sheepish and Guillermo found it hard not to smile.

“Sure,” he said. He carefully shuffled towards the chaise, feeling around for furniture to guide him.

“Where are you going?” Nandor murmured.

“The lounge.”

“Oh.” Did he sound disappointed? Guillermo shook the idea from his head, but then a cold hand found his in the dark and he froze. “Guillermo? Could you…maybe…sit next to me while I go to sleep? I am just worried. About our safety. Because of my nightmare.”

The butterflies in Guillermo’s stomach were wild spiders now, crawling through his body and sending chills down his spine. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. He was still tethered to Nandor’s hand, a hand that had already made the decision for him. He let it lead him to the bed, and he sat down cross-legged, as close to the edge as possible. Nandor’s hand slid away from his and dropped lazily. He let out a satisfied hum and wiggled a little under the blanket, basking in his newfound coziness.

“Here, Guillermo,” he mumbled, shoving some of the blanket into Guillermo’s lap. “You are cold.”

“Oh…thank you…” Guillermo took the tiny section of blanket and smoothed it over his lap. It didn’t help much. There was nothing but air to lean back on, and his head was swimming with fatigue. The short bar that served as the bed’s headboard dug into his lower back painfully but didn’t support him. The chaise was beginning to look like a California king in comparison.

Nandor seemed to sense his discomfort, which was a surprising exercise in empathy for the vampire. “Are you still cold?” His voice was expectant and shy and Guillermo quickly breathed “yes” in response before he could even stop to consider. The blanket left his lap as Nandor shuffled over towards the wall, and through the dull illumination of cloaked sunlight, Guillermo could see the blanket lifted in invitation. The spiders, the chills, the aching in his groin all heightened until his ears were ringing, but still he shimmied under and welcomed the warmth. Nandor settled the blanket gently on top of them and rolled over to face the wall.

“Good morning, Guillermo,” he mumbled.

Guillermo, eyes wide, heart pounding, hands trembling, head _whirring_ , simply burrowed further under the blanket and mumbled something that was incoherent even to him.

It was well past nine before Guillermo finally managed to nod off, the remnants of his adrenaline-fueled morning and Nandor’s unpredictable emotions having dragged him down into the depths of a drowsy black pool that he embraced warmly. He’d been asleep no longer than twenty minutes when a sharp kick in the calf roused him. He lifted himself into a sitting position reflexively, stifling an annoyed groan. Nandor was writhing underneath the covers, his legs striking at the blanket like two angry vipers. He was muttering and twisting and grunting. He was having a nightmare.

Guillermo exhaled, allowed himself to relax, and slid onto his back. He listened to the gruff, accented voice beside him; strained to pick up individual words as Nandor quietly ranted and whimpered in his sleep. Something about a plane, a picture box, a lantern, a smoky man with a moustache. Guillermo raised an eyebrow at the nonsense and nudged Nandor’s shoulder with the heel of his palm. Nandor snorted and rolled over and suddenly Guillermo was being pulled into a tight bearhug by a vampire who was too unconscious to keep his strength in check. With a grunt of effort, he rolled over and was immediately snapped into place, his back curving into Nandor’s torso like a fitting puzzle piece.

Nandor’s arm was heavy around his chest, and Guillermo was surprised the thundering of his heart didn’t wake the vampire. Gingerly he sagged against Nandor and closed his eyes, tilting his head to better expose himself to the cool breath that tickled the nape of his neck. Nandor was asleep again. His needless breathing was steady and calming. It felt surreal to lay here in the arms of the man he adored, even if he was simply a security blanket and not a lover. Guillermo had never shared this sort of physical intimacy with anyone. He was acutely aware of every occasional hand jerk and shoulder twitch as Nandor’s brain ruminated over its fleeting dreams. He listened to the vampire snore and mumble and smack his lips together, all terribly human behaviours. His heart ached for reasons he couldn’t place.

It took him a long time to slow his heart to a healthy rhythm again. Counting sheep hardly helped. Nor did Nandor’s twitching arm enveloping him; heavy in both the literal and figurative sense. Guillermo told himself to _stop_ – to not pull empty meanings out of insignificant actions. The fact that Nandor hadn’t pulled away from his kiss was probably the result of shock. The obvious jealousy? Well, Nandor was a bit of a narcissist. The hard lump against Guillermo’s butt that hadn’t been there earlier? Just morning wood. A physiological response to potentially _anything_.

Guillermo’s face heated up so quickly it almost started a fire. He had dreamt about scenarios like this countless times in the past. In his fantasies, Nandor would be spooning him, his cock rock-hard, his lips drowsily grazing Guillermo’s neck. Sleepy, yes…but awake. And Guillermo would be arching back into him, grinding against him, rock-hard himself. But this was real life, and Guillermo was so awestruck that he was as flaccid as a wet noodle. Besides, Nandor was out like a light. It would be terribly wrong of him to become aroused by a sleeping man, even if said man was practically pinning Guillermo’s ass to his erection and murmuring amorously in his moony slumber.

Eventually, sometime close to midday, Guillermo drifted off again into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	6. Take A Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor falls in love

The sound of hooting and shrieking awoke Guillermo with a start. He tried to push away the haze clouding his brain and focus on the noises, but sleep was trying to pull him back down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deeply, but it came at the cost of a groggy brain, blocked sinuses and a headache. His face and arms were numb. The room was darker than it had been the last time he was awake. It was colder now, too…and emptier. The mattress was springy beside him, missing the weight of another person. Nandor wasn’t here. How long had he slept?

More hooting from somewhere in the house. Nadja’s shrill shriek rang out again, but Guillermo recognized it now as laughter. Whatever they were doing, they were having fun. Guillermo was tempted to drop back into his pillows and keep snoring, but when Nandor’s demanding voice sliced through the jovial yelling, he suddenly found himself staggering out of bed and hurrying to the door. He didn’t even bother pulling on a robe, though his bare arms were covered in goosebumps, and his shirt and sweatpants did little to fend off the still, icy air. He was too curious to worry about being cold, though. It was obvious that the noises weren’t coming from Nadja and Laszlo’s bedroom, nor did they sound like _those_ types of noises (though with Nandor involved, anything was possible). As he left the room and headed towards the empty dining hall, a small part of him prayed he wasn’t about to walk in on a vampire orgy. His housemates had little need to enter the dining hall unless they were hosting some kind of murderous dinner party. Did they have guests? Why hadn’t Nandor woken him for assistance?

Thankfully the door to the cavernous room was wide open, meaning there was a decent chance there was nothing untoward happening within. The moment Guillermo stepped into the room, though, he wondered if he’d been too hasty in assuming there was no orgy. A dozen huge, silken cushions (that could only have come from Laszlo and Nadja’s bedroom) had been arranged in a luxurious pile on the floor, and below them sprawled a vast shag rug that Guillermo had never seen in his life – raven-black, probably also courtesy of the vampire couple. What was happening on those cushions presently was something that resembled a slippery Twister game. Nadja, dressed in a beautiful corset the color of a midnight shore, and not much else, was struggling to escape from beneath Laszlo’s collapsed weight, while Nandor sat on the floor and rubbed his head, as if he’d fallen on it. Laszlo was dressed in a thin burgundy button-up shirt and blue jeans, while Nandor…Guillermo gulped silently. Nandor was dressed in a loose, silken black blouse (possibly Laszlo’s) that showed a good deal of chest hair, and tight black leather pants (those were definitely Nandor’s) that gave everyone a fairly good idea of the size of his anatomy.

But even stranger than the clothes and cushions was that Tom was with them, standing off to the side, doubled over and wheezing with laughter; his camera on its tripod and the big umbrellas and various flashes forgotten.

“Fucking _silk_!” Nadja growled. She’d brought her knees up and managed to kick Laszlo away. His pretty silk shirt went slipping over the silk cushions and he came rolling to the floor. Tom dropped to his knees, crying. One of Nadja’s lipstick-red stilettos had fallen off. Her hair was one massive tangle.

“This is ridiculous,” Laszlo proclaimed. “How can we make sexy picture plates when we’re sliding all over the place?”

“I think I have a concussion,” Nandor mumbled.

“That’s just your normal head, dear,” Nadja assured him. She lay back into the cushions, slid a little, then let out an exhausted huff. That was when she spotted Guillermo standing in the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the chaos.

“Oh,” she said with lackluster. “You’re alive.”

“Hey, man!” Tom greeted him from the floor. His face was red, his eyes wet with tears. “We thought we’d let you sleep and uh…”

“Tom thought it would be a good idea to mix silk with silk with _silk_ , and let me tell you, it is a terrible idea,” Laszlo said snappily. “For a picture-box wizard, he really has no sense in fashion. And leather on Nandor? _Really?_ ” He screwed his nose up.

“I look good!” Nandor shouted petulantly.

“He does look better than he did before,” Nadja muttered under her breath.

“Hot pink chambray! Corduroy bellbottoms!” Laszlo groaned. “I almost vomited blood.”

“They were from my discoing days!”

“Guillermo, you all right?” Tom asked, half-teasingly. Guillermo was frozen to the spot. His ears barely picked up the argument between the vampires, or Tom’s question. The edges of his vision were hazy, as though he were underwater and wearing tiny goggles. His eyes, his brain, could only focus on one thing…and that thing was Nandor: now sprawled over a heap of cushions, propped up on an elbow and absent-mindedly picking at the fur rug while his eyes bore into Laszlo’s and his mouth moved with words that were muted in Guillermo’s ears. He was beautiful; utterly, undeniably beautiful. But a large part of that beauty shone from within Guillermo himself because he _loved_ Nandor. He’d loved him for so long.

That love had begun as just a tiny ember. A week into his new career as a familiar – a week of endless, dirty jobs, like sweeping and scrubbing blood and dismembering bruised bodies, digging holes and cleaning bloody dishes and pouring blood down the tub and fertilizing Laszlo’s gardens with human remains – each little disgusting, morally abhorrent task added another heavy weight onto his shoulders until he had a breakdown that one Saturday night. Even now, over a decade later, he remembered it clearly: hyperventilating on the back steps, clutching the icy bannister, his hands turning blue in the cold. His master appearing behind him, a shadow against darker shadows. Placing a cold hand on his freezing human skin and somehow warming it. Guillermo’s breathing slowing as he felt his master’s silent gaze on him. And then looking up with wet eyes to see the brooding vampire, and thinking how magnificent he was standing there tall and stoic in his fur-lined cloak, his head bent to look at his short, round familiar. His gaze had held a spark of warmth that had met Guillermo’s eyes and travelled down his head and into his chest, to plant a seed in his heart. The first little ember.

After that, each minute scrap of affection the vampire showed him would plant another seed; start another tiny fire. Scraps they were, but they were _his_ scraps and he didn’t have to share them with anyone. Nandor might have had his fair share of trysts with Laszlo and Nadja and various other creatures of the night, but Guillermo was sure that _most_ of Nandor’s affection (and he wasn’t capable of much) was given to him, as platonic as it was. After all, those tiny embers had ignited a raging fire inside of Guillermo a long time ago that only grew more out of control by the day. Surely that meant something?

Presently, Guillermo’s mind was whirling. _I kissed_ _him this morning. How did I manage to kiss him? Me, a pathetic little human, and him…look at him…_

Nandor had apparently given up his arguing and was now staring obtusely at a blank wall, his lips parted slightly, his jaw slack in absent stupidity. Guillermo decided that maybe their kissing wasn’t _all_ that jaw-dropping. Reality came rushing back to him and his vision cleared. He could hear again. Focus. Nadja was adjusting a strap on her lingerie while Laszlo posed sexily on the cushions, arms stretched back over his head. Tom’s attention had returned to his camera, but his voice still lilted with amusement and unshed tears of laughter.

“Very nice, Laszlo,” he said cheekily, knowing the old-school vampire cosplayers couldn’t detect sarcasm.

“Thank you, chap,” Laszlo murmured seductively. He was watching his lady wife try to arrange herself on the cushions without slipping. She was still missing a heel. “I don’t know if I’ve told you, but I used to be a world-famous pornography actor.”

“That so?” Tom said.

“You’ve told him fifty times in the past hour, dear,” Nadja reminded him.

“You may have heard of my more recent porno—”

“I’m not too familiar with adult films.” Tom’s face broke out in an embarrassed grin as one of the flashes went off. Nandor hissed and shielded his eyes dramatically, like he had every time the device had gone off during the shoot (later they would discover that most of the photos displayed him grimacing and hissing at some off-frame light source).

“I could give you a demonstration, my good man,” Laszlo offered. He grabbed Nadja by the hips and pulled her to him in one fluid motion, positioning her on her hands and knees in front of him. They teetered dangerously on the cushions. Nadja let out a shrieking laugh and kicked her husband away.

“You are an idiot, darling,” she admonished. “A horny idiot.”

Guillermo figured they must have imbibed in some drunk-blood tonight. Tom was clearly finding the whole ordeal utterly hilarious. If only he knew about those once-drunk, now-dead people no doubt piled over each other in the cell below their feet.

“Got some great shots of Nandor,” Tom said all-too-casually, his words directed at Guillermo.

“Oh?” Guillermo’s voice came out an embarrassingly pathetic peep.

“Tom said I am very _photogenetic_ ,” Nandor said with the vainglory of a small child being praised for his bad drawing. Guillermo thought better than to correct him. The perplexed frown that flashed over his features wasn’t lost on the vampire, though. Nandor’s eyes lit up, and his lips stretched back in a maniacal grin. “You aren’t _jealous,_ are you?” he sneered.

“Huh?” Guillermo raised an eyebrow, even more confused now.

“You look like you are jealous because _Guy-Tom_ said I have good photogenesis.”

“It’s _photogenic_ , you dumb fuck,” Laszlo grumbled boredly. Nandor hissed at him.

“Oookay,” Guillermo said. He was still too tired for this tomfoolery. “I’m going to go take a shower and—”

“Oh!” Tom seemed to perk up at that, much to Guillermo’s dismay. He knew what was coming. “Dress in some nice clothes, Guillermo. I taught Laszlo how to shoot with my camera, and he wants to give it a go. He can do a quick shoot when you’re back...” Tom must have seen the way Nandor’s eyes narrowed to suspicious slits, because he quickly added, “With you, too, Nandor. Of course.”

*****************

Hmm. Nandor did not like this. Whenever the flutteries came upon him he felt a little panicky and light-headed, and a warrior could not afford to be light-headed! He had to have a thick, heavy, impenetrable head! Especially when dealing with _vampire hunters_. Even if said vampire hunter had kissed him just this morning.

What had _that_ been about? There wasn’t time to consider; Nandor had other, more pressing matters to think about. He picked at the rug absently and gnawed on his bottom lip as he tried to keep his eyes from following Guillermo’s ass out the door. The thing that had evoked the flutteries was something very lewd that he did not care to think about again, but because he didn’t care to think about it, of course it came rushing back to him almost immediately. The idea of sharing with Guillermo a bath, or a shower, or some other body of water while they were stark naked and perhaps washing each other’s nether-regions. Speaking of nether-regions…these pants were _very_ tight. He was beginning to think that perhaps Tom had picked out the silliest of clothes because he was secretly making fun of the vampires. Maybe he wanted Nandor to look bad so that Guillermo would laugh at him. He frowned deeply, not so much at his suspicions, but at the questions that now plagued him: what was this bitter mucky feeling deep inside of him; the one that seemed to simmer and clot in his stomach like rancid blood whenever Tom so much as _glanced_ at Guillermo? Was it truly jealousy? Nandor had always taken what he wanted – he’d never had cause to feel envy. And these other feelings…part of him knew what they were, but that part he did not want to listen to right now. Because the memory of those feelings had been buried hundreds of years ago when he’d lost his wives – especially the 35 that he had actually loved.

_Loved._

Nandor grimaced at the word in his head. He’d been trying his hardest not to think about the dreaded ‘L’ word. And now it was out in the open for all his three braincells to see. “Fuck,” he growled under his breath.

“Are you _sure_ he’s not concussed, darling?” Laszlo said, blessedly catching enough of Nandor’s attention for the vampire to shake his confused thoughts away. He focused on the others in the room. They were watching him with mild interest.

“No, that’s just the face he makes when he’s thinking,” Nadja said, not unkindly. “I don’t think he heard a word of what you were saying, Thomas.”

“Looks like whatever was going on in his head was _far_ more interesting than what Tom had to say,” Laszlo snickered. “ _Both_ heads.”

Nandor threw a cushion over his stretched trousers and bared his fangs. “I was having profound thoughts!”

“About Gizmo’s arse?”

“Nandor,” Tom said quickly, before the vampire could think of a retort. He squatted down in front of Nandor, keeping a healthy distance from the glaring man. “Nadja was going to show me some old photography gear in the attic. I was thinking while we’re up there, Laszlo could take some photos of you and Guillermo.” He gave a wink and a grin, but Nandor just stared at him with vexation.

“I’m going to strip you both down to your birthday suits and make a porno,” Laszlo announced.

Tom’s eyes widened, matching Nandor’s own sudden panic. “He’s joking! He’s joking.”

“Who said I was joking?” the pompous vampire retorted. “At the very least, you’re getting out of my fucking silk, Nandor. And those pants. The shine from them is giving me a migraine.”

Nadja nodded in agreement, much to Nandor’s dismay. She got to her feet and wobbled over to Tom, clearly not used to such tall shoes. She reached down for her robe – also silk – that lay discarded beside the tripod.

“What do you plan on doing with these pictures?” she asked inquisitively, shrugging on the robe. “You don’t plan to sell them to witches, do you?”

“Ah, no,” Tom said, raising an eyebrow in good nature. “I was thinking of printing them big, you know? And framing them and maybe, I dunno, doing an exhibition.”

“An exhibition?” Laszlo seemed to perk up at that.

Tom shrugged, a little shyly. “Yeah, like in an art gallery?”

“Do they allow nudes?”

“I uh…” Tom scratched the back of his neck. “Hey Nadja, did you want to show me that gear?” He looked pointedly at Laszlo, who sprang to his feet, eager to have control over the magic modern picture box again. Nadja waited by the door, looking ever the unimpressed housewife while she waited for Laszlo and Tom’s quick camera lesson. When they were done, Tom joined Nadja at the door and they disappeared out into the foyer.

“Show him my pornos!” Laszlo called after them.

Nadja made a disgusted noise from somewhere outside.

A thought sprung unbidden to Nandor’s mind, and before he could stop himself, he shouted, “And don’t eat him, Nadja! Guillermo would be very upset!”

Another disgusted noise from Nadja.

Laszlo watched the doorway with anticipation, and when he was sure they were gone, he piped up. “Now listen,” he said conspiratorially, taking a step toward Nandor and squatting. “I’ve had it up to _here_ with your moping about.” He made a line with his hand. Nandor looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s not very high,” he said dubiously.

Laszlo sighed, but let it go. “You’re dropping enough salt to kill us all. The sexual tension between you and Gizmo—”

Nandor cut him off with a half-hearted hiss.

“—What, you think we can’t all see it? It’s driving us mad. Except for Colin Robinson – whom, might I add, is becoming more and more powerful by the day.” He struck the air towards Nandor with an index finger. “This needs to end, chap. And it’s ending now. One way or another.”

As if on cue, Guillermo came walking into the room just then. The butterflies in Nandor’s stomach had only just settled, and now they were more alive and agitated than ever and they made him feel extremely vulnerable…extremely _human_. His familiar wore jeans and a black dress-shirt – nothing exciting or fancy (nothing like Nandor’s hot pink shirt, of course) – but the first three buttons were undone, and Nandor saw more of Guillermo’s skin now than he’d seen in eleven odd years. Regardless of what his cold, dead heart thought, his body definitely had things to say about this pesky little human. He glanced down to ensure he was still suitably covered.

“Where’s Tom?” Guillermo asked.

“Nadja’s taken him to the attic to fetch my pornos,” Laszlo said distractedly. He was looking in the viewfinder of the fancy Canon. Guillermo went noticeably pale, and although Laszlo couldn’t see him, he must have sensed a change in the air. “Don’t worry, Nandor commanded Nadja not to eat him.”

Nandor grimaced at Laszlo’s betrayal. When Guillermo gave him a surprised look, lips curled in a tiny smile, the vampire’s stomach flipped nauseatingly as though he’d just swallowed a piece of human food. “Tom will be fine,” He said through his teeth. “Nadja and Laszlo have…taken a liking to him.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Guillermo said. He still stood near the doorway, as if deliberating whether to join them or not.

“Nandor, get those pants off,” Laszlo said in exasperation. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

If Nandor could blush, he would probably be a healthy shade of chili pepper by now. “Guillermo doesn’t want to see my ass!” he blurted.

“Leave your knickerbockers on, then.” Laszlo turned to Guillermo and gestured with a flick of his fingers. “You too, Gizmo. I want to see bare skin! Love handles and candle-mines! Things are going to get sweaty and steamy in here.”

Guillermo already looked rather sweaty, Nandor noted. Sweaty, and terrified. Nandor’s heart sank in disappointment, though he didn’t know why. All he knew was that he didn’t want Guillermo to feel uncomfortable, or scared in his presence. So he did what any intellectual vampire would do and sat up, unbuttoned his trousers, and went to work peeling them off his legs. They got stuck halfway, bunched up against his thick calf muscles.

“ _Shit_ ,” he said, and gave a tug. They didn’t budge. Laszlo shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, before having a lightbulb moment.

“Gizmo!” he said, perking up. Guillermo jumped at the voice. “Go help your half-wit master with his pants!”

“Hey!” Nandor exclaimed in a strained voice, still desperately trying to tug down his pants but getting nowhere. “I am fully wit!”

“Here.” Guillermo’s quiet, calm voice drifted over, and suddenly his human was just there, kneeling before him. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached out for the hem and peeled the trousers off effortlessly.

“This is very embarrassing,” Nandor grumbled, but something in his chest cavity was doing happy little flips at the crooked smile on Guillermo’s face. That was, until the man’s eyes roamed up his legs and settled briefly on the thin black briefs Nandor wore. His smile dropped and he looked away, a furious blush rising to his cheeks. _You’re lucky I wore any underwear today at all!_ Nandor wanted to yell. His chest felt uneasy again; that happy feeling gone. He roughly pulled his blouse over his head and tossed it to the side, feeling a weird swell of stormy confidence. Guillermo swallowed noticeably and quickly stepped back, looking everywhere except at the vampire who was now lounging mostly naked in front of him.

“It’s not as though you’ve never seen it before,” Laszlo said, his voice part frustration and part amusement. It was true; Guillermo had helped Nandor prepare for many orgies over the years, and although he’d never fully exposed himself to his familiar (that he was aware of), the strap-ons left even less to the imagination than his underwear did. Then again…his underwear wasn’t doing much to hide his _real_ anatomy, as sad and flaccid as it was right now.

“Slacks, Guillermo!” Laszlo said impatiently, hanging around the camera and pretending to make important adjustments. “Take them off.”

Nandor hoped that Guillermo would see the pleading look on his face, but not think it was _too_ pleading, because that would make Nandor appear weak. He felt silly laying here splayed over slippery silk pillows while wearing nothing but short briefs, and he wanted Guillermo to join him and make him feel less silly. Guillermo seemed to gaze at him for the longest time, though in reality it was probably only a few seconds, because there was no way Guillermo could stare at him for more than half a minute without blushing or looking as though he was about to cry.

Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, breaking out in an apologetic but incredulous grin. “I can’t do this. Sorry.” He looked like he was close to bursting into laughter. Nandor stared at him in disbelief, his face slowly twisting into a snarly glare. He was furious.

“Oh, so it is fine to pose nude for _Guy-Tom_ ,” he blurted, “but you will not even pose in your pretties with your master for some sexy pictures!”

“Oh my god,” Guillermo whispered, his face finally going its usual bright red.

Nandor felt the holy word like a crucifix against his brain. “ _Gah_! Guillermo!”

“Sorry…sorry…” Guillermo took a deep breath, and then his expression changed. His face hardened, his brow scrunching together as an air of confidence settled over him. “Actually no, Nandor. I’m not sorry. _You_ should be the one apologising. You’ve acted like a complete child since Tom got here and you won’t even admit to why!”

“There is only enough room in this house for _one_ tall, handsome man, Guillermo!”

“He’s not even that tall!” Guillermo shut his mouth tight and narrowed his eyes. Nandor didn’t like the way he was being studied. He liked even less the next words that came from Guillermo’s mouth. “Laszlo…would you excuse us?” His voice was dripping with bitterness; he didn’t even bother turning to acknowledge the shorter vampire.

“Yes,” Laszlo said with uncharacteristic discomfort. “I probably ought to go make sure my lady wife hasn’t ravished our guest…”

The moment Laszlo was out of the room (politely shutting the door behind him), Nandor scrambled to his feet to stare down his familiar. He instantly regretted it. In all the hundreds of years of orgies and knee-tremblers and that time in the 60’s when he’d decided to become a nudist for a week, Nandor had never felt as naked as he did now. This was an _inside_ nakedness though, as though Guillermo could see straight through his skin, into the empty shell inside, and somehow beyond that to his damned soul.

“Are you jealous?” Guillermo shot.

“No,” Nandor deflected immediately, without even stopping to think.

“Then what is it?” Guillermo was beyond exasperated. Behind his fancy black-rimmed glasses, his eyes were dark with frustration. “If it’s not about jealousy, then what? Do you think you have control over what I do or who I—”

“No!” Nandor blurted out. “I do not like strangers in my house, Guillermo. You know this. And you didn’t even ask me for permission first!”

“I did! Colin Robinson just never…” he trailed off with a loud sigh and looked down at his feet, as if giving up. “I’m not your familiar anymore.” He spoke as if he was talking to himself; as if admitting it to himself. “Even when I was, the shit that you made me do would have had anyone else running away after their first week. I’ve put up with so much from you, but I can’t keep doing this. I’ve lost over a decade of my life working for you.” His voice was barely a whisper by the time he finished, but each word was an agonising punch to Nandor’s guts. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Guillermo continued, looking up at him with large, pleading, eyes; wet pools that Nandor was terrified of falling into. “Do you know why I stayed, Nandor?”

Nandor knew the answer to this one, at least. He stood a little straighter. “Because you want to become a vampire!” The shake of Guillermo’s head delivered the hardest punch of all. Nandor’s insides seemed to shrivel and tighten; his throat constricting almost painfully. His stomach felt like a deadweight.

“I don’t think I want that anymore,” Guillermo said softly, his shimmering eyes boring straight into Nandor’s soul again. “I just want the truth. How do you feel about me, Nandor?”

Nandor tried to school his expression into something impassive, but he had a habit of grimacing at every little thing, and this was a very _big_ thing. Why did Guillermo have to spring a question like _that_ on him? With no preparation? What if he said the wrong thing? His grimace turned into a scowl and he clenched his teeth.

“I…don’t know?” he tried.

Guillermo gave a simple nod. When he tried to smile, it was all wobbly. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll pack my things then?”

“I guess so,” Nandor muttered. Why the fuck did he say that? Shouldn’t he be trying to keep Guillermo from chasing _Guy-Tom_ back to the other side of the country?

“You want me to go?” Guillermo asked, seemingly unconvinced. “ _Really_ , Nandor?”

“Yes,” Nandor said automatically. Then frowned at himself. Why the fuck did he say _that_?

“God, you are such an idiot!” Guillermo yelled.

Nandor hissed.

Then suddenly something barreled into him, but he couldn’t figure out what it was at first because the force of it made him snap his eyes shut. And then he kept them closed because he felt warm, plump lips graze his own and it felt nice. Very, _very_ nice. His hands lifted of their own accord to cup stubbly cheeks. He opened his mouth and deepened the kiss; it was awkward and sloppy and he never wanted it to end. When he unceremoniously shoved his tongue into Guillermo’s mouth, the human squeaked and flinched, but Nandor held him fast, trying to roughly coax Guillermo’s own tongue into action.

“Uhhh…” Guillermo’s voice was thick and wet. “Nahhdorr…”

“Shhhhh,” Nandor said against his mouth, before continuing his haphazard slavering. Guillermo finally made use of his hands and curled them around Nandor’s, squeezing and forcing them away from his cheeks. He managed to pull back after that, and wiped his mouth with a shy, breathless laugh.

“I need to breathe,” he reminded him.

Nandor’s tummy did the flippy thing. “I knew that!” he snapped. He waited for half a second before adding, “Have you breathed yet?”

Guillermo grinned in earnest now, and Nandor felt like the bits of confusion and bitterness and loneliness that had been encasing him were now being chipped off because of that one simple smile. The affection that was steadily welling up within him was embarrassing and not very warrior-like, but it felt better than all the sexy times he’d had in the past seven hundred years combined. That ‘L’ word was coming back to haunt him. But now he kind of wanted to be haunted.

They resumed their kissing, though this attempt felt far more natural. Guillermo threaded his arms up under Nandor’s hair and around his neck, and Nandor shuddered against the touch. His human regularly performed a similar action helping him with his cravats and kerchiefs, but it was always perfunctory and marred by aloofness. This was intimate…and with that thought in mind, Nandor slid his hands down to rest on Guillermo’s hips, and at the same time broke the kiss and went to work showering pecks over his human’s pulsating neck. Guillermo let out a short gasp, and then a giggle (he was ticklish – Nandor would remember that for later consideration), and took a quick step back. His bare heel came down on one of Nadja’s silky cushions and he let out a surprised cry, losing his balance and wobbling. Nandor’s added weight had them both toppling down onto the rug.

That was it for Nandor. In that second, he both literally, and figuratively, fell in love.

*******************

The pile of cushions made their fall a little less painful, though Guillermo did feel the entire weight of himself and Nandor shoot through his ass when it collided with the floor. Nandor’s chin came down hard on the top of his head and the vampire bit his lip, letting out a surprised yell. But like two magnets briefly separated, they found each other again immediately. Guillermo reclined into the pillows and tried to steady his galloping heart as Nandor held himself above his supine body and kissed him again. Laying beneath his ex-master like this was beyond thrilling. Nandor’s skin may have been cold, but it heated Guillermo’s insides like a fire heats a cauldron. He wanted to get out of his shirt and pants – was it too late to follow Laszlo’s orders? – but he was also afraid it would send the wrong message…as would the prominent bulge in his pants. He wanted to take this slowly.

The thought made him pull away from Nandor’s kiss, but he lazily draped his arms around the vampire’s neck to placate him (he looked like he was about to start grouching at the loss of contact). “So, do you know now?” he asked in a half-teasing way.

The affection in Nandor’s eyes answered for him, even if Nandor had no idea what he was talking about. “Do I know what?” he replied.

“Do you know how you feel about me?” He didn’t want to sway his ex-master, but he couldn’t help running his palms down the front of Nandor’s chest, through the oily black hair that covered it. He smelled wonderful. Natural and masculine; a scent Guillermo would recognize anywhere; and yet now, in this situation, it was even headier than usual. Guillermo was intoxicated. Nandor, meanwhile, was frowning, his forehead wrinkled in dismay.

“I feel…I don’t…I’m confused, Guillermo…” he admitted finally. Guillermo noticed the way Nandor’s eyes searched his face, silently imploring him for assistance. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, what does your intuition say?” he asked, drawing circles on Nandor’s chest.

Nandor’s expression turned from one of confusion to one of irritation. “I wouldn’t know, Guillermo. I was never given an education! Unlike Mister Smart-Pants here!” he poked the man in the chest and it took Guillermo great self-constraint to not roll his eyes.

“Not _tuition_ , Nandor,” he said with forced gentleness. “Your heart? What does it say?”

Nandor looked down at his chest, at the hands roaming it. The action had him leaning further into Guillermo from the waist down, and Guillermo’s heart did a nervous flip at the sizable bulge that was pushing against his own.

“I’m dead, Guillermo,” Nandor said finally, in a matter-of-fact way. He lifted his gaze to Guillermo’s eyes again. “So my heart does not say anything.”

_Lord help me with him._

Guillermo hugged him around the neck again, bringing him in close for another passionate kiss. Nandor let more of his weight rest on Guillermo, slumping into him while he ravenously explored his mouth. Guillermo had never hated clothes in his life half as much as he hated them now; Nandor’s roaming hands and the occasional, teasing thrusts against his erection were driving him mad. Soon he was giving them back, bucking his hips to meet him, then groaning wantonly in a way that had Nandor chuckling.

Eventually he pushed Nandor back again, hands splayed on his chest to keep his weight off. “What about now?” he asked breathlessly. “Do you like this?”

“Yes,” Nandor responded obediently.

“Do you like that it’s me? And nobody else?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…so…do you have feelings for me, then?” Guillermo had to keep from squeezing his eyes shut.

“What kinds of feelings?” Nandor asked inquisitively.

Guillermo regarded him with a little smile. “Well, what kinds of feelings are you feeling right now? Be honest.”

They stared at each other for a long time. It was an exercise in patience for Guillermo, and an exercise in being brave for Nandor. Eventually the vampire broke his gaze and looked down at Guillermo’s chest bashfully.

“I feel…happy,” he said quietly, cautiously. “And…and fluttery. Nervous. Because I want to make _you_ happy, Guillermo. I want to make you happy more than _Guy-Tom_ or anybody else makes you happy. Because I think you are…” he stopped, closing up again.

Guillermo’s soaring heart stuttered at the break. He lifted his hand to Nandor’s cheek and gently drifted his thumb over it, then down his jaw, feeling the contrasting textures of smooth skin and beard. He gave Nandor a nod of encouragement.

It took a few seconds for Nandor to find his voice again. “I think you are…important. And…good. You are a good friend and I want to…” he trailed off with a frown, wracking his constipated brain for the right words. Eventually he sighed and looked into Guillermo’s eyes again, and Guillermo’s heart stopped at the sight of the earnest longing in them. “You are everything to me,” Nandor said, his voice quiet but firm. “And I want to be with you. Yes, that’s it, I think. I want to be with you, and be your best friend, and share kisses with you.”

Guillermo’s chest swelled with emotions; too many to name. His face lit up in a smile that seemed to relieve Nandor. “I want to share kisses with you, too,” he said. “But maybe as _more_ than best friends?”

Nandor screwed his nose up. “What, like a concubine?”

All the blood in Guillermo’s body rushed to his cheeks. “Uh, I was thinking more like a boyfriend, maybe?”

“Boy…friend…” Nandor considered the words with a hum. “Does that include dates, Guillermo? Because the last three dates I went on resulted in several deaths that were _not_ related to feeding…”

“Why don’t we just focus on baby steps for now, yeah?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I’m ready for a child.” He patted Guillermo’s hand, an apologetic smile on his face. “But maybe one day?”

Guillermo tried to keep his face impassive while his brain screamed, _Guillermo, how did you ever fall in love with this man?_ “Just…hand-holding and cuddles for now?”

“No sexy times?” Nandor sounded disappointed.

“Eventually. Soon.”

“Are kisses O-AY-KAY?” The vampire made a demonstration by tickling Guillermo’s neck with his lips and beard. Guillermo bit back a surprised shriek and squirmed, trying in vain to keep other parts of his body from misbehaving.

“Kisses are _very_ okay,” he giggled.

Nandor stopped his persistent nuzzling and began to trail kisses over his _boyfriend’s_ collarbone. “Kisses everywhere?” he murmured, lifting himself up a little more to get better access to the smooth skin within the ‘V’ of Guillermo’s shirt. He kissed slowly across his chest and then stuck his nose under the hem of Guillermo’s shirt collar, nudging it away. Guillermo tried not to squirm, suspended somewhere between ecstasy and apprehension. When Nandor found Guillermo’s nipple and flicked it teasingly with his tongue, Guillermo arched into him before promptly pushing him away.

“ _Nandor_ ,” he groaned. “What did I just say? No ‘sexy times.’”

“I am only kissing!” Nandor protested. He gave Guillermo’s nipple a tiny peck, as if to demonstrate his chastity.

“I need time to process all of this,” Guillermo breathed. His cock said otherwise, but he ignored it. “This is all so…unexpected. And somebody could walk in any minute.”

Nandor gave his nipple one last flick, and at the same time ground his hips against him, and Guillermo gasped, his body reacting despite his best efforts. Nandor left his chest alone and met his lips again, even hungrier than before. Guillermo was getting the hang of French kissing already; most of their saliva stayed inside their mouths this time. He was hardly aware of their mutual, gentle humping as they attacked each other’s mouths…until Guillermo felt his balls tighten.

_Oh no_. He swore loudly, mostly out of chagrin and shock rather than the intense pleasure that coursed through him. He was twitching and spasming and Nandor broke the kiss to look at him in alarm. Guillermo felt the wetness seep through his trousers and he blushed bright red, panting, eyes wide in terror.

Nandor’s face melted into a wide, cheeky grin. “Guillermo!” he said too loudly, in that mischievous admonishing way that Guillermo both loved and loathed. “Did you just come in your pants?” He must have noticed the way Guillermo’s face crumpled in embarrassment, or spotted the tears that sprung to his eyes, because his grin softened into an affectionate smile. “It’s okay,” he soothed, “I too would do the same if I was make-outing with somebody as handsome and rugged as me.”

Guillermo wanted to glare at him, but he couldn’t help the peals of laughter that escaped his throat. He relaxed back on the cushions and let the mortifying humor wash over him. At some point he became aware that Nandor wasn’t laughing with him, so he opened his eyes and looked at him, and his laughter died in his throat. Nandor was watching him, his eyes soft with adoration but at the same time smoldering with desire. His entire expression was relaxed, tender. He looked at Guillermo as if Guillermo _were_ everything. When he noticed Guillermo staring back at him in admiration, he bowed his head and planted a little kiss on his nose, bumping his lover’s glasses in the process.

“Let’s get you some clean clothes,” he said playfully. “And then we will go sit in the fancy room and hold hands.”

*************

The next two days were spent stealing kisses and holding hands when nobody was around, and quickly flinging hands away or stepping back whenever somebody unexpectedly whisked into their personal space. They hadn’t talked about telling their housemates, or Tom, yet, but Guillermo found the little game quite fun, and he relished the few hours each night when their sleep schedules would collide and they’d share Guillermo’s little, old cot. Those first nights together were spent cuddling and mumbling and kissing. They explored each other in their clothes, sneaking touches underneath during their “make-outing” sessions. Usually it was Nandor doing the feely-feels, but he was respectful enough about it; stopping when Guillermo told him it was too much; that they still had all the time in the world.

The night Tom left, Guillermo and the vampires accompanied him to the airport. By then, Guillermo had told Tom in private about what had happened in the dining hall, and Tom had simply smiled and winked, as if to say he knew it was going to happen all along.

They stood at the terminal now and waited for Tom’s flight to be announced. The harsh lights of the large hall had the vampires near glowing. They all stood with matching grimaces and squinting eyes, clearly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar brightness. At least they blended in more than usual; night flights seemed to bring out some colourful and loud crowds. An entire football team took up a good portion of the waiting seats.

“Thanks for having me,” Tom said after his flight was called. He enclosed Guillermo in a chummy hug, and then – much to Guillermo’s surprise – hugged Nadja and Laszlo, too. He stepped back and looked up at Nandor’s face. The vampire stared him down with an uncertain grimace, so Tom stuck out his hand in offering.

“Guillermo? Tell your friend I am _not_ kissing his hand,” Nandor said through his teeth.

“No, Nandor, shake it,” Guillermo supplied in a whisper.

“Oh.” The vampire stared at it for a moment longer, and then grabbed it the wrong way, and shook it with a little too much vigor. Tom tried to smile over the crushing pain.

“See you, Tom,” Guillermo said with a little smile. “Thanks for everything. I can’t wait to see the photos!”

“Yes, make a nice exhibition!” Nadja called.

“Don’t forget to frame my nudes!” Laszlo shouted.

Tom grinned and waved before disappearing into the departing crowd.

Nandor let out a long sigh and, much to Guillermo’s pleasant shock, slid an arm around his shoulders. Their companions’ eyes almost bulged out of their heads.

“Well,” Nandor said.

Guillermo looked up at him with a smile. “Well?”

Nandor turned around, taking Guillermo with him, and headed for the double-doors that would lead them to the carpark. “That was Tom, hey?” he said thoughtfully. “Seems like a nice guy.”

Guillermo gaped at his lover in disbelief. If looks could kill, Nandor would be a dead vampire.


	7. I feel so real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, character death ahead...proceed with caution
> 
> Thank you to Chelsfic for beta reading and yelling at me! <33

**Epilogue**

_ “Oh, I’m not sure I’m ready for a child. But maybe one day?” _

“Ah! Here it is,” Nandor said with enthusiasm, pulling the faded photo album from the bookshelf and dusting it off. “We asked Tom to send us some of the pictures he took so we could fill this empty book. Well, it was empty. Now it is full of my handsome face.” He flashed a smile at the young woman beside him. Such a pretty little thing, the apple of his eye.

She giggled as they sat on a lounge in the fancy room, ignoring the wandering souls around them: vampires and humans mingling, talking quietly, walking quietly, as if afraid to wake the dead.

“That was such a romantic story,” Mac said with a dreamy sigh. “A little TMI though, Grandpappy.”

“Oh, you think that is Tee-Am-I? The stories I could tell,” Nandor said with a wink.

Mac rolled her eyes. She looked so much like her natural grandfather when she did that. Nandor loved her for it. “I’d rather you not,” she said. “Just show me the photos.”

Nandor obliged, opening the album and slowly flicking through each photograph, explaining them all to his sweet granddaughter and smiling as her dark eyes absorbed the snippets of their past.

“Is that  _ abuelito _ ?” she exclaimed, pointing to one of Nandor’s favourite photos. Guillermo laying on one of the fancy lounges, on his stomach, his head resting on his arms as he stared at the lens beneath black-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a nice black shirt and dark-blue jeans; a far cry from his usual ugly carpet sweaters.

“Yes!” Nandor grinned. “He actually brushed his hair that day.”

Mac giggled again. “He looks so young there.”

“You remind me very much of him,” Nandor said, his eyes wrinkling at the sides in affection. “Only much,  _ much _ more beautiful.” Mac snorted and nuzzled Nandor’s side in a hug. He put an arm around her; kissed her on the forehead. They stayed like that for a long time, deep in their own thoughts, ignoring the tension and unease that filled the rest of the house. Mac seemed to carry an aura of calm wherever she went, and it made Nandor calm.

A shrill noise broke them from their separate reveries, and Mac jumped to her feet. “Oh! I’m sorry, Pappy, I have to get this.” She produced a smartphone from her back pocket and answered, promptly hurrying into the most distant corner of the room. Nandor tried not to listen in, but he had very good hearing. He smiled, his stomach filling with warmth; he knew exactly who was on the other end. Knew it by the way his granddaughter’s heart leapt and then sped up. The way she nervously stretched her fingers, feeling the weight of the band on one of them – a new, unfamiliar weight. Nandor had noticed the rose-gold ring earlier, and the way she’d played with it all morning.

Others may have thought (had they even noticed with everything else going on) that a proposal was a terrible idea at this point in time, but Nandor thought it was _perfect_. Mac’s face was a pretty shade of pink when she came back and sat beside him. She’d just turned 21, and she _was_ beautiful: in the shadows her skin was pale like her mother’s, but in the light, it gave off an olive sheen that Guillermo had generously passed down to her through her father. Her lips were plump and her nose petite; her round face framed in beautiful chocolate-brown curls. She wore round glasses just like her _abuelito_ once had, which amused Nandor to no end.

“Important call?” he inquired.

Mac’s blush only deepened, and she gave a little shy smile. “That was Katy, and…”

“Of course it was,” Nandor said.

“ _ And _ she was wondering if she could come along to…wait have you been listening to my heartbeat?” Mac narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion.

“It’s not as though I can help it,” Nandor said petulantly, and gently poked her in the arm. “You have a very strong heartbeat!”

“Nandor?” Nadja’s subdued voice came from just behind them, and they both turned around. “Ready to go?”

Nandor looked down at his clothes. Guillermo had, at some point, convinced him to start wearing sweaters and slacks and Nandor couldn’t believe he’d gone almost 800 years without such comfort! But today he had on his sensible vest and flowing cape and tall, black mourning hat. Mac’s father had helped him trim his beard because Nandor always made it wonky, what with the lack of a reflection to guide him. He was thankful for his son. He was Guillermo’s flesh and blood, both biologically and in resemblance. And their son had given them the most wonderful gift they could have ever asked for: a beautiful granddaughter, who, after Nandor’s persistent nagging, they’d allowed him to name: Macaria, or Mac for short. Because even Guillermo had refused to let an American child be named Macarena, despite the fact the song had become something of an obscure legend lost in time.

Nandor stood and smiled down at the young lady, before giving her shoulder a pat. “Of course Katy can come,” he said.

****************

The service was held at the gravesite two hours after sundown. Halfway through the improvised, non-religious sermon (currently being spoken by an afflicted Laszlo), a small, gangly lady with honey-blonde hair and freckles came bumbling through the crowd. Black hats and pale heads turned silently in her direction. Her face was flushed when she reached them.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she whispered, squeezing between Nandor and Mac. She was flustered and upset; her eyes rimmed with red. Nandor glanced down in time to see Mac plant a kiss on her forehead, and he smiled despite the weight of the black cloud that hung over them all. He also didn’t miss the gleam of a matching band on Katy’s ring finger. Nothing was said between them, though, as Laszlo continued the eulogy he’d hastily scrawled out last night. They stood and listened solemnly, wiping away their tears while others in the small crowd sniffed.

After the service, after everyone had left for their cars, Nandor and the two young ladies stayed by the large square hole and stared down at the coffin within, lit by the moon and a single solar lantern. Eventually Katy turned to Nandor and threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his collar.

“I’m so sorry,” she sniveled. “I know how much you loved him.”

“Love him,” Nandor said, not unkindly. “He may be gone, but I’ll never stop loving him.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because now both girls burst into wailing tears, and suddenly Nandor had two pairs of arms hanging off him, dragging him down to their shorter level. Eventually he had to pry them from his neck – it was getting sore, and the collar of his blouse was soaked with their tears. They looked at Nandor with eyes that at once shattered and restored his dead heart.

He had to tear himself away from them before he ended up an equally snivelly mess, so he effortlessly hopped down onto the coffin. Mac and Katy were so used to being around dead things and coffins now that if they felt any outrage at the action, they did a good job suppressing it. They watched him lay on his back on top of the polished oak slab, with its wreath of flowers and thin coating of dirt.

“He always wanted to end up in one of these,” Nandor said, more to himself than the girls, who exchanged confused glances at his words.

“I wish he were still here,” Mac said in a whisper. “It’s only been two days since we said goodbye, but it feels like an eternity already.” Katy put her arm around her.

Nandor let out a light, amused snort. He looked up at their silhouettes. “You have no idea.”

“Pappy, can I ask why you never…I mean…” Katy was hesitant and shy at the best of times, but Nandor knew what she was going to say, and he wasn’t surprised by her reluctance.

“Mac never told you why?”

“It wasn’t my story to tell,” Mac said quickly, with a hint of guilt. Guillermo had raised her father well, for him to raise such a respectful and polite girl. Well…Nandor did a lot of the raising too, but tonight was about Guillermo. Every night would be about Guillermo, from now until eternity. Nandor felt a pang in his chest and he pushed away the thought. Death was no stranger to him after 800 years, but it still felt surreal. No matter how much time they’d had to process this and prepare for it, he still didn’t feel ready. He’d never feel ready.

“I didn’t turn him because he didn’t want to be turned,” he said simply.

“Why?” Katy asked, perking up. “If I were given the chance I would—” she paused, stuttered something, and then quickly added, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t be saying this.”

“Why not?” Nandor said. “Guillermo had no regrets. I’d offered him the chance many times, of course. At first his excuse was his heritage. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with it – did he want to stop killing vampires and become one, and go against what he thought was his destiny? Then, after we were married, he decided he wanted to be a father.” He grinned at that, remembering that particular conversation, in bed of all places. “So we decided that yes, that would be nice. We found a wonderful woman to carry the baby – your Grandmother, Mac – and the doctors did their magic little things with the eggs and sperms, and  _ vi-ola _ ! Andy was born. He was a very ugly baby, too.” The girls giggled conspiratorially, but Nandor quickly added, “Don’t fucking tell your father I said that! So, sometime after your daddy was born, Guillermo and I talked again about him becoming a vampire. By this time, he was about forty and healthy, certainly still young enough to become a vampire.” He let out a long sigh through his nostrils, reminiscing about those years; the purest years of his undead life. “Well, he was  _ smitten _ by little Andy, let me tell you. He said that he couldn’t bear to watch his own children and grandchildren grow old and wither away. I said to him, we could turn them into vampires when they are adults? He said, well, it would be up to them, wouldn’t it? We couldn’t force them. And if they refused? Then he would have no choice but to watch them die.”

“That...actually makes sense,” Katy said cautiously.

“Too much sense,” Nandor grumbled. “I didn’t see it at first. I thought he was crazy! But there were other reasons too. What-if things, like what if the process killed him, or what if he hated being a vampire? So we made it work, and eventually I stopped worrying and just…let him be alive. Let him be human.” He was watching the stars wistfully, thinking of those nights recently when they’d lounged under the night sky in the long chairs, only days before Guillermo went to the hospital for the last time. “I’d never felt happier than I did the years I spent with him. So when we got the news of the cancers…”

“You asked him again,” Mac said, still enraptured by the story she’d heard a dozen times already, her voice quivering with tears.

Nandor made a noise of assent. “And he said he was too old.”

“He was a stubborn old man,” Mac said with a shaky laugh. “Almost as stubborn as you.”

“Thank you, Macarena,” Nandor teased. He rolled onto his side. The coffin beneath him was extremely hard and uncomfortable, made worse by his awkward clothes, and yet he didn’t want to leave. That same dreadful, primal urge that had almost taken over him at the hospital came rushing back and he wanted to tear open the lid of the coffin and see his Guillermo again, even just once more. Instead, he lifted himself onto his elbows and planted a soft kiss on the polished wooden surface, ignoring the specks of dirt there.

“I will see you again I’m sure, my sweet _Jahan_ …” He drifted his fingers over the casket. Gently touched the beautiful wreath of lilies, snapdragons and posies. He thought back to the many arguments they’d had after they’d been given the news. Stage 4 bladder cancer. Three to six months. Nandor had been adamant that he turn Guillermo then and there; had even half-heartedly threatened to do it in his sleep. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing the first person he’d truly loved in so many hundreds of years. Guillermo had assured him he was at peace with the news, and that he would make a miserable vampire anyway, what with his bad knees and crooked back and paper-thin skin. The nights following the news were filled with torrents of emotion. They’d fight and then they’d make love and then they’d cry together, their foreheads touching as they stroked each other’s cheeks; Nandor making sure not to scratch Guillermo’s fragile skin with his long fingernails. Eventually he’d given in to Guillermo, deciding that yes, an eighty-five-year-old man would make for a pretty miserable vampire. Even if his libido was still very much in check.

“For now, I think you deserve a good rest,” Nandor finished. He kissed the casket one last time and got to his feet, before levitating out of the hole and landing beside his granddaughter and her fiancée. They simultaneously hugged him again, although this time it was subdued. He gave them a tight bearhug back, enjoying their human warmth; their combined love. He closed his eyes and listened to their hearts. Mac’s strong, steady beat, and Katy’s nervous, quick little rhythm.

Katy stepped back first and sniffed, “The world has lost an angel.” Nandor smiled sadly and swiped a tear from Katy’s cheek with a bent finger. She was a sweet girl; Guillermo couldn’t have asked for better for his beloved  _ nieta _ . Nandor’s insides glowed with bittersweet warmth.

“Yes, the world has,” he said solemnly. He reached down and took the girls’ hands – one in each of his – glancing pointedly down at the matching bands and then back up to their faces with a new, happier smile. “But our family has gained one.”

Nobody spoke again until they were almost at Mac’s car, and it was she who broke the silence. “He told me that if there’s anything on the other side, he will come back to say hello if he can,” she said in a small voice. “I hope he does.”

“Oh, no,” Katy said, hugging herself. It was hard to believe she was five years older than Mac; she was meek and little, like a mouse. “Ghosts terrify me.”

“Even family ghosts?”

“ _ Especially _ family ghosts.”

“They are not so bad,” Nandor said thoughtfully. “Though lucky for you, the only ghosts I have met have had unfinished business. I don’t think Guillermo left anything unfinished. Except maybe that word-cross puzzle…”

“Who was the last ghost you saw, Pappy?” Mac asked. Nandor didn’t miss her shiver. It was cold out, and the bright crescent moon and howling wind gave the cemetery an eerier atmosphere than usual; the wind playing with their hair like phantom fingers.

“An old friend of Guillermo’s,” Nandor said, and he leaned back against the car and crossed his arms, suddenly in story mode again. “His name was Tom. He was the one who took a lot of those pictures in our special album, Mac.”

“Oh, we have to show them to Katy!” Mac gushed.

“I don’t know if I want to see haunted photos,” Katy peeped.

Nandor laughed and then wiped his eyes. “Those aren’t haunted, but I do have one that  _ is _ . Tom’s unfinished business was taking a photo of Guillermo and I in love, apparently.” He gave a shrug. “I could think of better things to do with my afterlife, but he came to us not long after Guillermo got sick, and he had with him a ghostly picture box—”

“Camera,” Mac whispered to Katy, who made an ‘o’ with her lips and nodded.

“--So we let him do his ghostly magic and take a picture. I would show you but it is  _ very _ personal…”

“Well good, I don’t think we want to see it then,” Mac said quickly, and grinned in spite of herself. Nandor stepped back from the car to let the couple inside. Mac turned to face him. “Are you coming, Pappy? We’re already late for the wake.”

“Afterparty,” Nandor corrected. “Guillermo wanted an  _ afterparty _ .” Both Mac and Katy laughed at that, but then Nandor said, “You go. I’ll fly home soon.”

The girls understood. They shared hugs and said their goodbyes before leaving. Nandor watched the car take the road out of the cemetery, until its tail lights disappeared over a crest.

He thought about the special photo, safely stored away in a little locked box in his drawer at home. Glowing, ghostly-Tom had come to them a much older man, with deep wrinkles and a thinning white moustache. But he was still Tom, and he still had friendly eyes and a brilliant smile, like a kindly old professor. And the photo he’d given Nandor was a gift that he would forever cherish: Nandor and Guillermo were seated on a lounge in the fancy room, their hands folded over Nandor’s knee, their heads turned to face each other. Nandor’s lips touched Guillermo’s forehead. Their eyes were closed. Nandor remembered pulling back after the photo was taken, and looking Guillermo in the eyes. The skin around them was wrinkled and sunken, and the telltale signs of sickness had begun to seep into his face. But those eyes were still sharp and young, even behind his glasses.

Ghost-Tom had handed the little square polaroid photo to Guillermo, and Guillermo took a peek before Nandor could (much to Nandor’s annoyance). His face had lit up in a huge grin and tears had sprung to his eyes. Wordlessly he’d shown Nandor, and Nandor’s eyes had immediately welled up, too.

The photo had the slightly-faded quality of a polaroid, and they were surrounded by a blue glow that seemed to emanate out of the photo, but Guillermo, leaning into Nandor’s kiss with a small content smile, was fifty years younger. Smooth skin, not yet blemished by eighty years of life and sun; thick curly hair; dark stubble over plump cheeks. The photo showed the man Guillermo had been on that day in the dining hall, as they’d argued and kissed and embarrassed themselves. The day that Nandor had fallen in love.

_Awake on my airplane_   
_Awake on my airplane_

  
_I feel so real_

_Could you wanna take my picture?_   
_'Cause I won't remember_   
_Could you wanna take my picture?_   
_'Cause I won't remember_

_I don't believe in_   
_I don't believe in_   
_Your sanctity_   
_Your privacy_

  
_I don't believe in_   
_I don't believe in_   
_Sanctity_   
_A hypocrisy_

_Could everyone agree that_   
_No one should be left alone?_

  
_Could everyone agree that_   
_They should not be left alone?  
_

**_Filter - Take A Picture_ **


End file.
